


sabihin mo na

by protagonists



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bobo si Atsumu, Di ko rin alam bakit sinulat ko to, Fluff and Humor, Hyperprojection ba kamo?, M/M, Pafall si Bokuto, The Author Regrets Everything, UP Diliman AU, by extension bobo ang author, pero bahala na si batman, star cinema ang peg ko dito charot
Language: Filipino
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28306848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protagonists/pseuds/protagonists
Summary: Atsumu is a student of the college of miscommunication.Entry for HQ Filo Week Day 4: University(English version in Chapter 2!)
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41
Collections: HQ Filo Week Fic Collection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *head in hands* 
> 
> I wanted to do a fun little drabble for HQ Filo Week, BUT ENDED UP RELIVING COLLEGE MEMORIES AND PRODUCED THIS MONSTER JESUS CHRIST HAHAHAHHA
> 
> This fic is a hodgepodge of real life experiences of mine and my friends (some tweaked to fit this story), a lot of college embarrassment but also kilig moments ended up here. It feels like a diary entry chz
> 
> I actually never want to read this again, but if you choose to read this, I hope it makes you laugh, because I sure as hell was laughing when I wrote this damn thing.
> 
> If you plan on reading this in English, head over to Chapter 2, but if you're looking for this in its true jologs form, read on.
> 
> Let's never talk about this fic again. SALAMAT PHOWZ WAHAHHAHAHAH
> 
> Content Warnings are as follows: Star Cinema levels of kajologs-an, hyperprojection and shameful memories ahead Lord have mercy HAHAAH MERRY XMAS NA LANG PO

_Bilisan mo at buksan mo na 'yan_ _  
_ _At gaganda ang ating samahan_ _  
_ _Penge naman ako n'yan_

_Penge naman ako n'yan - Itchyworms_

A lot of people say that college will be the best years of your life.

Atsumu Miya snorts at the thought. _Tanginang best years ‘yan._

If his best years include endless requirements, 2AM breakdowns at coffee shops and org responsibilities that had him running on four hours of sleep on a daily basis, then Atsumu is already having the time of his life.

Atsumu soldiers on, continuing to type on his laptop as the sounds of jeepneys passing through the academic oval drown in the background. He has no choice. The impending deadlines has him in a chokehold, and his extracurriculars are filling up every free spot in his calendar. 

He really can’t catch a break, can he?

Atsumu checks his notebook, filled with messy scribbles that he could barely decipher. This is admittedly a bad habit of his, considering the fact that journalism required him to always be ready to take down notes anytime, anywhere.

People have wondered why he didn’t pursue sports science in college. It is a well known fact that he was one of the top setters — if not _the_ top setter — in the country during his high school years. Many schools had scouted him after all, giving him the privilege of choosing whatever school he’d wanted. 

Undoubtedly, Atsumu loved sports — he still does. He loves the thrill of the matches and the adrenaline rush that accompanies it. Volleyball ran in his blood, but he also wanted a college degree he could use to pursue a future beyond the court. As a compromise, he decided to focus on Sports Journalism, a way to merge his passion and his dream career. To make this dream happen, Atsumu knew he had to go for the best. Once he saw his name posted on the website along with thousands of hopeful _iskolars ng bayan_ , he already knew the University of the Philippines was it for him. 

But as the saying goes, the best things in life don’t come easy.

“Huy.” 

Atsumu doesn’t hear the voice behind him, his head too focused to make progress with the word document currently flashing on his laptop screen. Atsumu never liked distractions, only focusing on his vision of him donning his own _sablay_ in front of fully bloomed sunflowers along University Avenue.

“Tsum-Tsum. Pansinin mo naman ako.” 

With a gentle tap on his shoulder, Atsumu turns to see his friend greet him with a wide grin and freshly cooked pancit canton in hand.

“Uy. Ano yan? Libre ba?” Atsumu teases, the smell of his favorite food invading his senses. _Fuck._ He hadn’t eaten properly that day, back-to-back classes making it impossible for him to eat aside from the quick _taho_ he’d bought along the way.

Bokuto barks out a laugh as he sits opposite him at the usual stone table _tambayan_ they’ve claimed over the years. “Gago. Lunch ko kaya ‘to.” 

“Damot naman.” Atsumu huffs, instead continuing to work on his paper. His eyes flitter from the screen to the noodles in Bokuto’s hand, already being devoured by the boy in front of him. Bokuto notices his friend staring at him, so he pauses in between bites.

“Gusto mo ba?” Bokuto says, offering his forkful of noodles to Atsumu and placing it mere inches from his lips. “Ito, subuan kita.”

Atsumu gulps. He wants to eat it so, _so_ badly. The rumbling in his stomach isn’t helping him any, so he decides to agree. His mouth opens to accept Bokuto’s offer, the taste of the spicy and tangy blend of chili and calamansi exploding on his tongue. It’s a momentary respite, a much needed break from his writing sprint. He closes his eyes, allowing the flavors to melt in his mouth. “Mmm. Shet, ang sarap.” 

Bokuto is amused by his expression. “Gusto mo pa?” He twirls another forkful of noodles and brings it closer to Atsumu who’s ready to eat it, when a loud voice shouts from far away.

“Hoy! Bawal maglandian dito.” Sakusa shouts as he approaches. Anyone could see him from a mile away, the neon green jacket he’s wearing begging for attention as he comes out from the main building. 

“Sinong malandi?” Bokuto yells back, dropping the fork on his plate. Atsumu whimpers at the missed opportunity to take another bite of the wonderful delicacy that is pancit canton. “Pinapakain ko lang naman si Atsumu ah? Diba, bro?”

Atsumu goes along with the joke . “Oo bro. Wholesome lang tayo dito.” The two exchange looks, their eyes shining with a hint of playfulness. They’d take any opportunity to mess with Sakusa.

Their plan worked, it seems, as Sakusa drops his bag on the table. He stares intently at the two with his signature scowl. “Tigilan niyo na ako, please. You’re so embarrassing. Para kayong magjowa, nakakadiri.” 

Atsumu rolls his eyes. _Typical Omi._ Among the three of them, Sakusa had always been the odd one out. Where Atsumu and Bokuto were always the life of the party, Sakusa would rather blend in the background and watch the two make a fool of themselves. The three of them had met during their first year, competing against each other during their college’s annual interdepartment games. Though they came from different courses, they eventually found a way to become friends and by some miracle, managed to stay friends well into their third year in college.

Atsumu grunts, going back to working on his paper. “Ewan ko sayo, Omi. Ba’t ka ba nandito? May class ka pa diba?”

“Free cut kami eh. Dumaan lang ako kasi baka you wanted to join me sa UP Town.” Sakusa shrugs his shoulders. Bokuto and Atsumu exchange looks, perking up immediately at their friend’s offer.

“Manglilibre ka?” Bokuto asks. Atsumu snorts at his friend’s question, knowing full well that Bokuto was as shameless as they came. 

Sakusa frowns. “Tangina niyo. Mukha ba akong mayaman?”

“Sino ba sa ating naka BMW dito?” Atsumu jumps in, his eyes barely leaving the screen of his laptop.

“Excuse me, that’s my family’s old car. Pamana lang yan sa akin ”

“Yeah, dude. Because your parents drive a Porsche!” By this time Atsumu and Bokuto are howling with laughter. As much as Sakusa tries to play it cool, it is a well known fact that Sakusa is what one would call a _rich kid_. He is the heir to his family’s business, and him taking up Communication Research to maximize his market research skills was planned from the very start. 

“Fuck you, guys.” Sakusa takes his place beside Atsumu on the bench, pulling out the fresh stack of readings he had recently photocopied from earlier. “So ano? Sabay ba kayo sa akin sa Starbucks? Boks, we can go gym na rin later sa Gold’s pagkatapos.”

Bokuto nods. “Naman! Ikaw, Tsumu? Anong plano mo?” 

“Di pwede guys. I have three articles due tomorrow, tatambay muna ako sa lib mamaya.” Atsumu tilts his head back and groans in frustration. There is always too much on his plate, that much is sure, but he still has every intention of making it work. “Pass na lang muna ako. Mukhang all-nighter nanaman ako, puta.”

“San ka mag-aall nighter mamaya? Damayan kita.” Bokuto asks. “Magaayos pa ako ng prod ko for Videography class.” As a Broadcast Communication major, Bokuto loved being behind the camera as much as he loved being in front of it. His gregarious personality made him fit for his course, his dream to make great content for television — whether starring in it or producing it — becoming a reality.

“Ah, makikigulo lang ako kina Samu. Mag-aacads raw sila ni Keiji mamaya sa Shakeys.”

“So third wheel ka?” Sakusa asks quizzically. 

“Manglilibre raw si Samu ng pizza eh. Sino ba naman ako para tumanggi sa grasya diba?”

“Pero niyaya ka ba nila?” Bokuto asks.

The more his friends asked him questions, the more he realizes how he completely missed all the cues that indicated that it was, in fact, a date night for his twin and his boyfriend. Atsumu falls silent for a few seconds, trying to determine a response that didn’t make him look like a complete fool. “Technically, di naman nila sinabi na _bawal_ ako sumama.”

“You’re so stupid, Miya. They’re going on a date. Matuto ka naman sana makiramdam.” Sakusa says, his fingers still arranging the readings in the proper order.

Atsumu smacks Sakusa by the arm, earning a glare from the black-haired boy. “Tangina mo, Kiyoomi. Kapatid ko naman yun.”

Sakusa sighs, then gestures to their friend who is still happily eating his instant noodles. “O, tutal kapatid mo naman si Samu, right? Sagarin mo na. Ask Boks to join you later, para naman double date kayo.”

This time, it is Atsumu’s turn to scowl. “Again, Tangina mo Kiyoomi. Sagad.”

“Bahala ka diyan. It’s not my fault you can’t get a hint, dumbass.” With a smirk, Sakusa picks up his readings and bag. “Ano Boks, tara? Iwan na natin yung tanga dito.”

“Ang sama ng ugali mo, Omi!” Bokuto replies, clearing his silver paper plate for the last bits of noodles. 

“I never said I was nice. So, are you joining me or iwan na rin kita dito?” 

“Ito na, teka.” Bokuto picks up his bag, leaving Atsumu behind. He is still busy typing up words on his laptop, and fears he’d lose his focus if he leaves his seat. “Huy, Tsum-Tsum. Sure ka, okay ka lang dito?”  
  
“Oo naman.” Atsumu says, waving him away. “Text mo na lang ako if susunod ka mamaya ah..”

“Okay, sige.” The concern in Bokuto’s voice is audible, but Atsumu pays no notice to it. He’ll be fine, making sure to do whatever it takes to get through this hell week unscathed. As he types, he feels arms embracing him in from behind, forcing his hands to stay still.

“Boks? Anong ginagawa mo?” Atsumu says, not moving an inch.

“Niyayakap ka.” 

“Oo nga. Bakit?”

“Feel ko kailangan mo eh.” Bokuto replies simply, as if this were a completely normal thing to do. The two froze in that position for a few seconds, until they hear Sakusa shouting from behind them.

“KOUTAROU. ANG TAGAL!”

Atsumu swats Bokuto’s hands away, forcing his friend to let go. “Umalis ka na nga dito!”

“Oo na. Good luck, Tsumu. Labyu.” Before Atsumu could respond, Bokuto had run back to Sakusa.

_What was that all about?_

He hears Sakusa scolding Bokuto. “Nakipagharutan ka pa talaga kay Miya?” Bokuto’s laughter is the only response he hears, slowly fading away as they leave the vicinity.

Atsumu has no idea what just happened, but this isn’t unusual. In their college, hugs are the currency of choice when greeting other friends, so he really thinks nothing of it. Atsumu decides to go back to the paper he is working on, but notices the paper plate Bokuto forgot to dispose of.

He frowns, making a mental note to scold Bokuto for leaving his mess on the tables yet again. The idea of the paper plate, however, reminds him of his current concern. His stomach growls, the bite of pancit canton from earlier not enough to satiate his hunger.

He wishes Bokuto would have fed him more. 

_Tangina. Bitin naman ako._

* * *

_Gagawin ko ang lahat pati ang thesis mo_

_Huwag mo lang ipagkait ang hinahanap ko_

_Ligaya - Eraserheads_

Later that night, Shakey’s is unusually packed on a Tuesday evening. A mix of customers fill the tables, from families happily eating dinner to college students inching their way to the electric sockets placed on the walls. 

In one corner of the restaurant, Osamu, Akaashi and Atsumu occupy a booth. Osamu and Akaashi have their laptops out, all the while feeding each other slices of pizza they’ve ordered to get them through the night. Opposite them sat Atsumu, feeding himself with readings he needed to finish in time for class the next day.

“Hello? Konting respeto naman sa nag-aaral dito.” Atsumu says, the look of disgust visible on his face as he cringes at the sickeningly sweet display of affection in front of him.

“Sino ba kasing nagsabi na mag-aral ka dito?” Osamu replies, irritated at the presence of his twin brother.  
  
“Sino ba kasing nagsabi na maglandian kayo dito?

"Kaninong pizza ba yung kinakain mo ngayon?" Osamu retorts, gesturing to the slice in his hand.

"Hoy, sabi ng mama ko share your blessings." 

"Gago, parehas tayo ng nanay!”

The twins continue bickering, which thankfully, the other customers ignored. Akaashi minds his own business, continuing to work on his paper with one hand, and held a pizza slice in the other. He is used to this after months of dating Osamu, so fights among the twins are simply common fare.

In the middle of their argument, Atsumu stops talking as a familiar face appears at the entrance. Entering the establishment is Bokuto, who looked like he came straight from the gym with damp hair and a shirt that accentuates the muscles of his arms. 

Whatever argument he was having with Osamu is promptly forgotten.

“Nakikikain ka na nga lang, kaya wag mo guluhin babe time namin ni Keiji! Tsumu. ATSUMU!” Osamu raises his voice. Once he noticed that Atsumu stopped paying attention to him, he smacks his hand on the side of his twin’s head. 

Atsumu yelps, rubbing the side of his head. “Aray, puta! Bakit mo ako binatukan?”

“Di mo ako pinapansin eh! Ano bang tinitingnan mo at-” Osamu turns to look behind him, seeing the object of Atsumu’s attention. “Ah. Kaya pala.” Osamu waves over Bokuto, inviting him to come over. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto greets, giving the trio a cheerful wave as he approaches the table. “Pwede bang makitable?”

Osamu stands up to greet him with a pat on the back. “Boks! Parang ang tagal na nating di nagkikita ah?”

“Oo nga eh. Wala, busy ako sa prod classes ko eh. Puro shoot at editing.” 

“Talaga? Buti nakasama ka ngayon.” Osamu’s cheerful demeanor immediately changed when he glared at his twin. “Bal, mahiya ka naman. Paupuin mo nga si Boks!”

“Napakasama talaga ng ugali mo, Samu.”

“Mas masama yang pagmumukha mo, kaya umusog ka na para makaupo na si Boks.”

Atsumu scoots over, leaving enough space for Bokuto to settle down in the booth. “Tangina, kambal tayo! Parehas lang mukha natin!” 

Osamu doesn’t dignify Atsumu’s complaint, instead putting his attention back to Akaashi. Atsumu looks at his twin in disbelief, not believing the amount of shit he’s being given at this time of the night.

Resigned, Atsumu goes back to his readings, looking for the specific paragraph he left off. Beside him, Bokuto pulls out his laptop, the screen glowing as it boots up.

“Anong aaralin mo Boks?” Atsumu asks. His hand moves steadily as he highlights keywords from the pages of his readings. 

“Naghahanap ako ng concept para sa prod ko. Kailangan namin ng puro close-up angles for our next prod.”

“Oh. May naisip ka na?”

“I was thinking food sana.” Bokuto’s screen is currently filled with a variety of glorious food shots. He angles his laptop towards Atsumu to give him a view of his pegs. “Ganda i-shoot ng close up, plus the colors would look good. Sarap tingnan. Although kailangan ko na magshoot this weekend, next week na submission nito.”

Atsumu looks over at Bokuto, who clearly looks frustrated over this requirement of his. As his friend, of course he’d do anything to help him out, and who better else to ask for help from than his twin? Quickly, he pulls up a tab on his laptop and chats Osamu. 

> Huy bal.
> 
> Ano nanaman kailangan mo?
> 
> Tulungan mo naman si Boks oh.
> 
> Saan????
> 
> Sa prod niya.
> 
> Kailangan niya ng talent para sa shoot niya. 
> 
> Tungkol sa food raw.
> 
> He needs to shoot someone cooking up close
> 
> At ako talaga naisip mo?
> 
> Oo.
> 
> Kasi food.
> 
> Diba Food Tech ka?
> 
> Diba magaling ka diyan?
> 
> Tanga.
> 
> Di naman kasi puro pagluluto inaaral ko.
> 
> Pero magaling ka magluto diba?
> 
> Bal. Huy sagot.
> 
> Alam ko online ka, puta
> 
> Tama na harot.
> 
> Katabi mo lang si Keiji.
> 
> Ulol mo, gago.
> 
> Sige na nga.
> 
> Tangina, dinamay mo nanaman ako sa landi mo.
> 
> Huh?
> 
> Anong landi?
> 
> Kay Boks.
> 
> Wag ka na magpanggap.
> 
> Alam ko naman crush na crush mo siya.
> 
> Kanina mo pa tinititigan, ulol.
> 
> DI KO SIYA NILALANDI
> 
> Friends lang kami.
> 
> Promise.
> 
> HAHAHAHAHHAHAA
> 
> Funny mo diyan. 
> 
> Dami kong tawa.
> 
> Mga bente.
> 
> ANO NGA
> 
> TUTULUNGAN MO BA SI BOKS O HINDI?
> 
> Geh. Pero libre mo ako.
> 
> Sige. Anong gusto mo?
> 
> Yabu.
> 
> YABU??
> 
> Ayaw mo Tokyo-Tokyo?
> 
> Madali naman ako kausap. 
> 
> Kung ayaw mo, edi wag.
> 
> God bless na lang po.
> 
> ITO NAMAN
> 
> SIYEMPRE JOKE LANG
> 
> Sige na nga
> 
> G, sagot ko Yabu mo
> 
> Geh. 
> 
> Nakascreenshot na to at sinend ko kay Keiji. 
> 
> Alam ko mga galawan mo, scam ka gago.
> 
> tangina?????
> 
> [Seen 9:50 PM]

Osamu clears his throat. “Boks, sorry. Yung para sa prod mo, kailangan mo ba ng talent?” 

Bokuto perks up immediately. “Oo. Kailangan ko ng magluluto tapos ishoshoot ko siya. May kakilala ka ba na pwede?”

“G naman ako. Gawa ako ng special onigiri ko.”

Bokuto’s face lit up immediately. “Oh my god, seryoso ba? Thanks Osamu, you’re my savior. Libre na lang kita ng lunch, kahit ano.”

“Wag na!” Osamu says with a mischievous grin. “Si Atsumu na lang manlilibre sa akin. May utang pa yan sa akin eh.”

Atsumu’s body becomes stiff as he heard Osamu’s words. _Tangina. Wag mo ako ilaglag, Osamu._

With a playful nudge, Bokuto asks, “Aba, bakit ako di mo nililibre, Atsumu?”  
  
Atsumu stares daggers at his twin. He opens his mouth, trying to come up with a response. “Ah, kasi ano…”

“Joke lang. Di mo naman ako kailangan ilibre. Masyado kang malakas sa akin.” Bokuto throws an arm around Atsumu, pulling him in for a sideways hug.

All Atsumu could do is laugh nervously. Once Bokuto lets go of Atsumu, he proceeds to discuss with Osamu the details for the shoot on Saturday. In turn, Atsumu decides to return his focus on his readings. A ping sounds from his laptop, so Atsumu clicks to see the message in full.

> Hoy bal. 
> 
> Galingan mo naman itago ang kilig mo. 
> 
> Napaghahalataan ka na ih.

Atsumu scoffs. He looks incredulously at his twin, who just raised an eyebrow at him in return. 

He types furiously, his reply a default response to his brother over the years.

> Tangina mo, bal.

* * *

_Ang tawag niya sa mommy ko ay tita_ _  
_ _Bakit ba, 'di ko no'n nakita_

_This Guy's in love with you pare - Parokya ni Edgar_

On Saturday, the smell of good food wafted through the Miya Household. 

Osamu had prepared his homemade onigiri — a trademark dish of is — and Bokuto was there to capture it all on camera. 

Atsumu looks on, his mouth watering at the thought of the delicious food Osamu is preparing. He hasn’t eaten yet, instead choosing to wait for Osamu to finish cooking and finally get a taste of the rice balls he’s only made on special occasions.

“Okay, Cut.” Bokuto says as he reviews the footage in his camera. “Nice, last shot na yan, so goods na tayo. Salamat ulit, Samu!”

Osamu smiles, lifting the tray and heads towards the dining room table. “No problem, Boks. Tikman mo ginawa ko, bago pa agawin ni Atsumu.”

Atsumu exclaims from where he is seated. “Hello? Naririnig kita?”

“Alam ko.” Osamu laughs. Bokuto follows behind, eating away at the onigiri offered to him.

The three gather around the table, eating merrily when Mrs. Miya — affectionately called as Mama Miya by friends of the twins — approach the trio. To others, Mama Miya is the _cool mom_ , and everyone loves her. (The twins, however, think otherwise about their mom being cool in any sense of the word.)

“Oh, smells good! Did you make these, Osamu?”

“Yes, Ma. May video requirement kasi si Boks for his prod class, I helped him out.”

“That’s good! Hi Kou! Nako, napakapogi mo naman today.” Mama Miya pinches Bokuto’s cheeks before she leans in to give him a quick _beso._

Bokuto smiles cheerfully as he gives her a hug in return. “Thank you po, Tita! Kamusta na po kayo?”  
  
“Ito, masakit ang ulo dahil sa kambal.” Mama Miya chuckles as the twins groan. “Sayang, where’s Keiji? Is he coming over here?”   
  
Osamu replies, already busy sending a text on his phone. “Hindi raw, ma. I’ll drop by his house in a bit, dalhan ko siya ng onigiri tapos we’ll study there.”   
  
“Okay! Say hi for his mom for me, ah! Wag masyadong magpagabi.”

Osamu rolls his eyes as he heads towards the stairs. “Yes, Ma. I know!”   
  
Atsumu and Bokuto exchange looks, knowing full well that studying wouldn’t be the priority on Osamu and Akaashi’s agenda. They try to hold back their laughter, not wanting to raise suspicion from the woman in front of them. 

“Style mo bulok, Samu!” Atsumu shouts, earning a quick middle finger from his twin. 

Trying to steer the conversation in a different direction before they get into trouble, Bokuto speaks. “By the way po Tita, thank you for letting me shoot here!”  
  
In a typical _tita_ manner, Mama Miya replies gleefully. “Anytime, Kou! Alam mo naman always welcome ka dito. Ang tagal mo na ngang di nakabalik dito, pati si Omi. Kamusta ka naman?”

“Ito po, busy with acads. Buti nga nandiyan si Atsumu para samahan ako magaral.”

“Nako, buti na lang. Kamusta lovelife mo?” 

Atsumu glares at his mom. His mom loved getting to know his and Osamu’s friends, always offering their house as a place to hang out over the years. It just irritates him to no end that his mom would sometimes get a bit _too_ friendly, wanting to meddle in the personal lives of their friends.

But the thing is, Bokuto is such a people person. Their professors loved him, parents loved him, hell, even random strangers who drank at Drew’s loved him. He was _so_ good at making conversation, and since he was close to Atsumu’s mom, of course he couldn’t _not_ answer her question.

“Ay, Wala pong ganon, tita. Masyadong maraming ginagawa.” Bokuto replies, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Ah. ganon ba? Akala ko niligawan ka na ni Atsumu eh.”

Bokuto guffaws at the woman’s words. Atsumu on the other hand, nearly chokes mid-bite. He couldn’t _believe_ that his mom would even consider that as an option. 

“Ma! Kumakain ako dito!” Atsumu shouts.

“Malay ko ba! Palagi kasi kayo magkasama. Buti nga si Osamu may Keiji na. Eh ikaw?”  
  
At this point, embarrassment is clearly written all over Atsumu’s face. “Mahiya ka naman kay Boks, Ma!”

Mama Miya and Bokuto are cackling hysterically at Atsumu’s reaction, enjoying how flustered he had gotten. 

As if things weren’t bad enough already for Atsumu, Bokuto decides to fan the flames. “Oo nga Atsumu, kailan ka manliligaw? Naghihintay lang ako.”

Atsumu blushes, not knowing how to respond to that. He decides to shove the remainder of the rice ball in his mouth in shame. Atsumu really isn’t one to be embarrassed easily, but the level of humiliation he’s facing now with his best friend and his mom conspiring against him is on a whole different tier. 

To Atsumu’s relief, Mama Miya finally decides to bid goodbye to the two. “Cute niyo. Basta, if you kids need me, I’ll be upstairs lang ha? Make yourself at home, Koutarou!”

“Okay po Tita! Thank you ulit!”

Mama Miya heads upstairs, her footsteps growing quieter by the second. The two continue with the remainder of their meal, but Bokuto notices that the usually talkative Atsumu hasn’t spoken in a while. 

“Huy, Atsumu. Okay ka lang ba diyan?” Bokuto asks.

Atsumu mumbles in response. “Oo naman.” 

“Okay. Baka kasi napikon ka na. Alam mo naman biro lang yan diba?”

“Oo. Di ako pikon katulad ni Omi.”

“Grabe ka! Pero di ka nagkakamali diyan.”

Despite his sour demeanor, Atsumu manages to smile. “Di talaga.”

Bokuto checks his watch for the time, not noticing how much time has passed. “Geh. I’ll have to edit pa so alis na ako in a bit.”

The tiniest hint of disappointment flashed through Atsumu’s face. “Uy, sure ka? Pwede ka naman magstay dito.”

“Deins, bro. Hard drive ko nasa bahay, madugo pa editing nito so sa bahay na lang ako magtatrabaho. Thank you ulit sa tulong mo ah!”

“Anytime...bro.”

“Huy, totoo talaga. It means a lot.” Bokuto holds Atsumu’s hands in his, taking Atsumu by surprise. 

“Ano ka ba, Boks. Maliit na bagay.”

Bokuto continues, staring intently at Atsumu. Atsumu meet his gaze, golden yellow eyes demanding his full attention. “Wala lang. Super thankful lang ako na nakilala kita, and I don’t know what college life would be without you.”

Atsumu blinks once, twice, then chuckles as he removes his hands from Bokuto’s. “Bakit ang cheesy mo?”

“Bakit, bawal ba?”

“Di lang ako sanay. Parang akala mo naman di tayo magkikita next week.” The two laugh, breaking the sentimental moment between them.

After cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, it was time for Bokuto to go. Atsumu accompanies Bokuto to his car, greeting him goodbye. “Bye, Boks.”

“Ito na, aalis na ako. Wag mo akong masyadong mamimiss ah?” Bokuto teases as he enters the driver’s seat. 

“Asa ka!”

Once Bokuto’s car drives away, Atsumu heads back to his room. His fingers tap on his phone screen, and decides to send a text to Bokuto. His mind still reeling from Bokuto’s farewell, he decides to follow up on his joke. 

> Miss u. 😘
> 
> Excuse me?

Atsumu’s eyes dart towards the top of the screen, checking the recipient of the text. _Ay tangina._

> SHET.
> 
> SORRY OMI
> 
> Para kay Boks yan.
> 
> Tangina naman.
> 
> Wag niyo nga ako idamay sa landian niyo.
> 
> Di ko nga siya nilalandi. 
> 
> You remind me so much of Egypt.
> 
> Egypt? Huh?
> 
> Bakit naman?
> 
> You live in a river of denial.
> 
> Gago.
> 
> Wala akong dinedeny!
> 
> Talaga ba?
> 
> So crush mo nga si Boks?
> 
> Hindi.
> 
> I don’t know what to tell you, but that’s denial right there.
> 
> HINDI KO NGA SIYA CRUSH.
> 
> BAKIT MO BA PINIPILIT NA CRUSH KO SIYA????
> 
> Gusto mo ba ng powerpoint presentation kung bakit?
> 
> WALA KANG MAPEPRESENT OKAY
> 
> KASI WALA TALAGA
> 
> WALA
> 
> WALANG WALANG WALA TALAGA
> 
> W A L A
> 
> Talaga?
> 
> Bakit mo siya itetext ng “Miss u” with a kiss emoji?
> 
> That’s not what “just friends” do, Miya. 
> 
> Joke nga lang kasi yun.
> 
> Bakit ayaw mo maniwala :(((
> 
> Jokes are half meant, you know.
> 
> At ilang beses na yang jokes niyo.
> 
> Just friends don’t do surprise hugs from behind.
> 
> Just friends don’t text each other ‘Miss u’ out of nowhere.
> 
> Just friends don’t bend over backwards for an excuse to spend that much time together.
> 
> Bakit ba kasi ayaw mo aminin? Di ka ba napapagod?
> 
> Anong aaminin ko kung wala naman talaga?
> 
> Wala nga ba?
> 
> Bakit mo ba pinipilit to?
> 
> Kasi ang sakit niyo sa ulo.
> 
> And contrary to popular belief, I actually care about my friends, 
> 
> and I want you both to be happy.
> 
> OMI
> 
> ANG SWEET MO
> 
> Subukan mo ilabas yan, sasakalin kita.
> 
> GRABE
> 
> GANON BA TINGIN MO SA AKIN?
> 
> Oo.
> 
> Well
> 
> you’re not wrong…
> 
> Anyway
> 
> I have better things to do.
> 
> But think about what I said.
> 
> Friends nga lang ba talaga kayo?
> 
> Grabe ka naman, Omi.
> 
> [Seen: 7:03 PM]

Atsumu sighs and plops back on his mattress. For the past few days, his mind’s been in a whirlpool of emotions. His academics notwithstanding, his thoughts are a mess, and the incidents with Osamu, his mom and now with Kiyoomi added to his feelings that he didn’t quite know how to deal with just yet.

For the longest time, he and Bokuto had been friends, constants that became a part of each other’s college routine. It isn’t surprising, really, considering the fact that their classes were always just a few meters apart, so whatever spare time they had was spent with each other.

It was normal, Bokuto had become a part of his life, just as Atsumu had become a part of his. This isn’t supposed to be complicated. Of course, one couldn’t survive the last stretches of your academic life without having a support system, it just so happened that his support system happened to be a person he spent a lot of time — perhaps to others, _too much_ time — with on a daily basis. 

He doesn’t think of Bokuto _that_ way. Does he?

Even Atsumu isn’t so sure anymore.

Why is he so bothered? What does it matter anyway? 

Frustrated, Atsumu closes his eyes and clears his head. 

_Bahala na,_ he thinks. He decides to make this tomorrow’s problem, letting the Atsumu Miya of tomorrow deal with it instead.

For now, he sleeps.

* * *

_Nahihilo, nalilito._

_Asan ba ko sa'yo?_

_Aasa pa ba sa'yo?_

_Migraine - Moonstar 88_

“Miya.”

Atsumu grumbles, his face still flat against the readings he used as a make-shift pillow.

“Miya. Gising.” Sakusa’s voice is stern, a sound that even more annoying than his phone’s alarm. 

Atsumu refuses to budge an inch. “Ayoko.”

“It’s 8AM. 8:30 Exam mo diba?”

Atsumu’s eyes dart open in shock, feeling his blood run cold at the thought of missing his midterm exams. “Tangina!” 

He sits up suddenly, disoriented at the sight before him. All he sees are students in the current state as him, laboring over papers and readings. Laptops and book stand on top of the tables in the coffee shop they’re in. Outside, he sees darkness, save for the headlights of cars passing by Katipunan Avenue. “Huh? Bakit ang dilim?”

He flips over his phone, checking to see the time. 1:14 AM. 

Atsumu shoots an angry glare at his friend. “Tangina mo, Kiyoomi! Aatakihin ako sa puso sa’yo!”

“You said to wake you up after your nap.” Sakusa says unapologetically. “Nagising ka naman, diba?”

“Puta ka.”

Sakusa brushes off the insult, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Anyway, I have to go na. I’m just waiting for Boks to come back. He just bought coffee to get the wifi password.”

“Ay, may Kopiko pa naman ako.” Atsumu responds, pulling out a tiny plastic bottle from his bag. 

Sakusa grimaces at the sight. Atsumu’s taste in coffee is simple. If it woke him up, it was enough. While others preferred Starbucks in glass bottles for a quick convenience store pick-me-up, Kopiko 78 is Atsumu’s holy grail of caffeine. (Their powdered barako variant is a close second.)

With disgust, Sakusa tries to chastise the fake blonde. “My god, mahiya ka naman, Atsumu.”

“Bakit ako mahihiya?”

Sakusa rolls his eyes, refusing to acknowledge Atsumu’s cheapskate behavior. He looks over his shoulder to see Bokuto climbing the stairs, two cups of coffee in hand with a smile so wide that should not be possible at this ungodly hour. 

“Uy, gising na siya.” Bokuto says, placing down the cups of coffee on the table.

“Good, you’re here. I have to go home na.” Sakusa says, phone in hand as he prepares to leave. 

“Sure. Pano ka uuwi?” Bokuto asks as he takes his seat beside Atsumu. 

“Oh, May driver ako. I’m too sleepy to drive na eh.”

“Ha? Pano kotse mo?” 

“Ah, he’s gonna drive it. He took a grab para masundo ako.” Sakusa says nonchalantly, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. 

Bokuto repeats Sakusa’s statement, trying his best to make sense of what he said. “Teka. Pinagrab mo driver mo from _Alabang to Katipunan?”_

“Yeah. Sagot naman nina Dad eh.”

Atsumu interjects, mumbling his words due to the drowsiness he was feeling. “Tangina. I hate rich people talaga.”

Sakusa does not dignify it with a response. “Whatever. He’s gonna be here soon, so I’m heading out na. Oks lang kayo dito?”

“Walang problema!” Bokuto replies, slinging his arm over Atsumu. Atsumu’s sleepy eyes suddenly go wide once he feels the tight grip of Bokuto’s hand on his arm. “Right, Tsum-Tsum?”

Sakusa narrows his eyes at the two. “Hay nako. Enjoy your _study_ date. Bye guys.” Atsumu looks suspiciously at Sakusa, noticing the inflection in his voice. 

This apparently flies over the head of Bokuto as he calls after their friend. “Bye Omi! Ingat!” 

After Sakusa leaves, they decide to change their arrangement and settle on opposite ends of the table, getting ready for another long night ahead of them.

Atsumu doesn’t let the cups of coffee go unnoticed. “Boks, grabe. Baka masobrahan ka ng kape ah?”  
  
“Ha? Ay hindi. Yung isa para sa’yo.” Bokuto places the other coffee beside Atsumu's laptop. True enough, an approximation of his name is written on the cup. ‘Achumu, Fighting!’, it says, scribbled on the cup’s surface with permanent marker. 

With a sigh, Atsumu accepts. He wasn't planning on going beyond his budget, but he could really use a decent cup of coffee tonight. Atsumu pulls out his wallet, checking to see if he has enough bills to cover it. “Sige. Magkano ba?”

Bokuto waves him off. “Hindi, libre ko na. Para naman ganahan ka sa exam mo bukas.”

Atsumu is suspicious. Bokuto isn’t one to give away things for free. “Huy, Boks. Seryoso ako, bayaran na kita.”

“Wag na nga. Maliit na bagay.” Bokuto is insistent, pushing Atsumu’s hands away when he offers cash to him.   
  
“Nakakahiya!” 

“Bakit sa akin ka pa mahihiya?” 

The two end up staring at each other, not backing down. After a while, Atsumu knew this was a fight he would lose. With a sigh, he puts the cash back in his wallet. “Sige na nga. Libre na lang kita next time. Bawal tumanggi.”

Bokuto smiles, and goes back to editing his video. The two work quietly on their respective set-ups, doing their best to stay productive in the middle of the night. 

As the night continues, people start to go home, leaving only a few tables occupied. This also means that there is less body heat in the area, the unforgiving cold starting to seep through Atsumu’s skin. He looks up, noticing the aircon was spouting cold air towards him. Of all the days he forgot to bring a jacket, it has to be today. _Tangina naman._

“Nilalamig ka ba?” Bokuto asks from behind his laptop screen. 

Atsumu doesn’t respond, though his arms betray him as they visibly shake from the gust of cold air that’s directly hitting his head. He continues with his work, trying his best to let the heat of his laptop give him some sort of relief from the cold. 

Without a word, Bokuto stands up. Atsumu ignores him, until he feels fabric being draped over his shoulders. He turns to see Bokuto, wearing a frown for the first time that night. 

Immediately he shrugs the jacket off, but Bokuto’s hands hold it firmly in place. “Huy, Boks. Baka lamigin ka. Wag na.”

Bokuto couldn’t hold back the frustration in his voice. “Ano ka ba, Atsumu. Okay lang ako. Ayaw mo bang alagaan kita?”

Atsumu responds with the same level of irritation. “Sino ba kasing nagsabi na alagaan mo ako?” 

“Ako. Kasi gusto ko. Hayaan mo na ako.”

Atsumu attempts to make the conversation lighthearted again, teasing Bokuto. “Crush mo ako, no?”

“Eh kung sabihin ko oo?” 

Atsumu pauses. This is not the response that he expected. 

Surely, Bokuto _has_ to be joking right? 

Atsumu tries to think of a response, afraid of the direction this conversation was headed towards. Instead, he chooses the strongest comeback he could think of at that moment.

“Weh.”

Bokuto shakes his head in disbelief, settling down on his seat. “Ewan ko sa’yo Atsumu. Mag-aral ka na nga diyan.”

Atsumu looks slightly offended at Bokuto’s tone, annoyed at the response he gets. “Ikaw nagsimula eh!”

Bokuto puts his earphones back on and completely ignores Atsumu. Right now, he’s concentrating on splicing his shots to make a production worthy of an uno. Atsumu thinks he looks cute like that, the way his eyebrows furrow and the way he bites his lower lip-

Wait. Pause.

When did Atsumu find Bokuto _cute_?

_Shit._

Atsumu’s face warms up as he comes to term with this realization. He refuses to acknowledge feelings, refuses to believe that the others saw what he could not. 

But god, when Bokuto looked like that, how could he refuse? 

“Atsumu, okay ka lang ba? Namumula ka ata.” Bokuto asks with concern. 

“Ah, wala. Init ng kape.” He makes a show of blowing the coffee in his hands. “Napaso lang dila ko.” 

“Ay sorry. Dapat ba iced binili ko? I can get some ice if you want.” Bokuto starts to get up from his seat, but Atsumu stops him.

“No, it’s fine Boks. Kahit anong ibibigay mo, okay lang sa akin.”

“Okay, sabi mo eh.”

Bokuto looks over Atsumu and smiles, settling back in front of his laptop. Atsumu looks down and gets back to reading, trying to hide a smile that’s just as wide as his. 

* * *

_Sapat na sa akin ang ganito, ang pagmasdan ka sa malayo._

_Kapag kinausap, walang masagot._

_\- Waltz of Four Left Feet, Shirebound and Busking_

Tomato Kick had always been one of the places that saw students at their best and at their worst. From budding romance to break-ups, celebrations and struggles, this hang-out bore witness to the life and times of many _iskos_ and _iskas_ that had set foot into this establishment. 

Right now, The trio were here for the nth time this semester. Midterms were finally over and they are finally allowed to breathe (for now). 

On the table were three glass bottles of cold beer, along with a plate of nachos. All of these are courtesy of Sakusa, a little treat to reward themselves for surviving yet another hell week in their junior year. 

“Tangina, sa wakas, nairaos rin.” Bokuto raises his bottle in celebration. “Cheers!” 

The three of them clink their bottles together, eagerly awaiting the not-so-sweet taste of alcohol trickle down their throats. Atsumu and Bokuto down it straight from the bottle, while Sakusa carefully pours his in the glass provided for them. 

Omi follows suit, taking a sip of his own beer. “I really don’t get why you guys like that beer so much. Lasang kalawang.” He looks at his own bottle, _Cerveza Negra_ printed in fine script. Normally, he’d rather have the finer Stella Artois or Asahi as his beer of choice, but what does he expect from a bar that serves young, broke college students? 

Atsumu retorts. In contrast, their order never went beyond the iconic Red Horse. “Eh ano naman? Pare parehas na lang naman lasa niyan pag lasing na tayo.”

Bokuto laughs at Atsumu’s remark, which in turn causes Sakusa to sigh. “Why do I even ask.” 

The three continue their celebration, ordering one round after the other as they talk about their life. In the middle of their debate regarding the best CR inside the campus ( bidets and functional flushes as the main criteria), a voice calls out from beyond the glass door that separates the indoor and outdoor crowd. “Bokuto!” 

Bokuto looks toward the voice, excited by the sight of an old friend. “Uy, Bro! Musta!” Bokuto stands to head over to the man who called him over. Before he leaves, he turns to his friends.“Wait lang guys ah? Mangangamusta lang muna ako.”

Atsumu’s eyes follow him as he takes another swig from the glass bottle. This was his second? Third? Atsumu has lost count.

“Miya. Tama na yan.” Sakusa says, snapping his fingers to get the fake blonde’s attention.

“Anong tama na?” Atsumu slurs his words. Red horse was right. _Malakas nga ang tama._ It is barely even midnight, the night is still young and Atsumu is already feeling the effects of the alcohol. 

“Yang mga tingin mo na ganyan sa kanya. Aminin mo na kasi. Gusto mo ba si Boks o hindi?

Atsumu strokes his chin, swaying in his chair as he pretends to put some thought to his response. “Medyo, ata. Veeeery slight lang. Mga ganito.” He then leans forward on the table, pinching his pointer and thumb together to make a point.

“Di ka sure?” Sakusa replies, his arms folded as he listens to Atsumu’s drunk ramblings.

“Di ko alam.” Atsumu sighs, rubbing his face in frustration. ”Omi, di ko na talaga alam. Ano ba dapat maramdaman ko?”

Sakusa scoffs. “Sa tingin mo ba alam ko? Feelings ko ba yan? Hindi diba?” 

“Omi, bakit ba ang kupal mo? Pwede naman sagutin ng maayos.” 

“Kasi alam mo naman ang sagot. Ayaw mo lang aminin sa sarili mo. You like him.”

Atsumu is shocked, his annoyance getting worse by the second. “Akala mo ba madali lang para sa akin ‘to ?”

“I never said na madali. I’m just saying you know what you want. Why don’t you go for it? What do you have to lose?”

“Uhhhhh...Everything?” Atsumu tinkers with the bottle in his hand, refusing to face Sakusa’s judgemental looks. “Eh kung di pala niya ako gusto? Anong gagawin ko?”

“First of all, I doubt that. Hello, akala nga ng nanay mo na kayo eh. Second, Pano mo malalaman kung di mo i-ttry?”

_Tch._

If there is one thing you could rely on, it was Sakusa giving you the cold, hard truth. He took no prisoners when you wanted an opinion, his words stinging when you needed to hear it the most. A drunk Atsumu, however, does not appreciate Sakusa’s bluntness. “Pwede bang tap-out na ako sa feelings? Ayoko na.”

“Wag kang pabebe, nakakapikon. You can’t get what you want if you don’t try.”

“Ayokong maging awkward kami if it all goes wrong.”

“Eh if it goes right? Eh kung gusto ka rin niya? Ayaw mo bang malaman ang sagot doon?”

Atsumu doesn’t respond. Despite his drunken stupor, he knows Sakusa was asking all the right questions. For a journalist, Atsumu is supposed to be truthful and fair in all his news coverages. So why can’t he do the same with himself? “Bakit ba kasi nagkaroon ng ganyang tanong in the first place?”

“Di ko rin alam. Ganyan kasi type mo, pero that sounds like a _you_ problem, Miya.”

“Ang sama talaga ng ugali mo, Kiyoomi.”

Kiyoomi continues. “Mahal ko kayo, pero ang tanga, tanga niyong dalawa sa totoo lang. Pag-umpugin ko kayo eh. Di mo ba napapansin how clingy he is with you? Palagi kayo magkadikit, it’s disgusting.”

“Malay mo naman friendly lang talaga siya sa lahat.” Atsumu insists, taking another sip of his beer. He winces, the bitter taste of lukewarm Red Horse burning down his throat. 

The laugh that escapes Sakusa is dry. “Hindi lahat ng tao niyayakap niya ng ganon. Hindi niya _ako_ niyayakap ng ganon.”

“Okay, valid. Pero wala naman yumayakap sa’yo, period. Kulang ka ata ng aruga nung bata ka.”

“Alam mo, tangina mo rin eh. Bawiin ko libre ko sa inyo.”

“Wag naman ganyan. Itong si Omi, di mabiro.”

Sakusa shakes his head, smiling at the sheer idiocy of their talk. He raises his glass, which Atsumu responds to by raising his bottle, and they both continue to drink.

The two fall quiet, letting the conversations of the other tables serve as white noise to fill the silence that fell between them.

“So, anong plano mo kay Boks?” Sakusa asks.

Atsumu exhales. He’s slowly sobering up, but his thoughts and feelings remain hazy. “Di ko alam. Natatakot talaga ako Omi.”

“Alam mo, dapat mga taga UP matapang at matalino. Bakit ikaw duwag at bobo?”

“Ang sakit mo magsalita ha.”

“Shut up. Boks is heading back here.” The two try to do their best to act normally, as if they hadn’t been talking about him for the past half-hour.

Bokuto reclaims his seat beside Atsumu. “Sorry guys, napatagal usapan. That was my friend from High School! Anyway what were you guys talking about?” 

Atsumu’s face is flushed red, taking another sip of his beer as he refuses to look in Bokuto’s direction. He opens his phone, scrolling through his twitter filled with thoughts that were just as messy as his was in the moment. 

Trying to avoid awkwardness brought about by Atsumu’s behavior, Sakusa replies to Bokuto’s question. “Ikaw.” 

Bokuto chuckles. “Grabe naman. Miss niyo ako agad?”

“In your dreams.”

“Uy, teka bago ko makalimutan.” Bokuto pulls out something from his wallet. “May tickets ako para sa UP Fair next week. Binili ko from Konoha.” 

“Nice! Anong lineup?”

“Ah.” Bokuto inspects the ticket closely. “Moonstar88, Ben&Ben, Silent Sanctuary tapos UDD! Solid diba?”

“Ayos yan ah. For what day?”

“Friday, February 14!”

Atsumu scoffs upon hearing the date. “Awow, Valentine’s day talaga?”

“Oo.” Bokuto says with a laugh. “Yayain ko sana kayo maging date ko.”

Sakusa replies. “Ay, I can’t. I have a weekend trip with my family.”

“Out of town? Saan? Tagaytay?”

“Ah. Sa SG lang. Nagcrave si Mom ng Hainanese chicken nung isang araw, so sinurprise kami ni Dad with a trip this week.”

Atsumu looks up from his phone, flabbergasted by Sakusa’s statement. “Tangina? Sana all may weekend trip to Singapore?”

“Wag na kayong mag-alala. Uwian ko kayo Irvin’s.”

“Yown. Iba ka talaga Kiyoomi Zobel De Ayala Sakusa!” Bokuto raises his bottle in honor of their friend.

“Tanginang ‘yan, Boks.” Sakusa retorts, but goes along with Bokuto’s antics. “So ano, tuloy kayong dalawa sa UP Fair?”

“Ako oo.” Bokuto shifts his attention to his seatmate. “Ikaw, Tsum-Tsum, samahan mo ako?” His arm casually rests on the back of Atsumu chair, causing the boy to become acutely aware of its presence. 

Atsumu still refuses to look up, sure that a smirk is playing on Sakusa’s lips. _Oo na. Marupok ako, tangina._

“Oo naman.” Atsumu says, his voice coming out in a higher pitch than usual. 

“Yown! Wait, puntahan ko lang si Kuya, I need more ice.” For the second time that night, Bokuto leaves his seat, letting Atsumu breathe again.

Sakusa leans in to whisper. “Oh ayan. Here’s your chance, Miya.”

Atsumu panics slightly, the idea that he and Bokuto made plans for a pseudo-date on Valentine’s day. “Tangina naman. Bakit mo ako iiwan, Omi?”

“Big boy ka na. You can do it.”

“Omi, di ko alam gagawin ko. Ang daming tanong na di ko alam ang sagot.”

Atsumu catches sight of Bokuto waiting at the counter, chatting up the _kuya_ as he prepares the bucket of ice and beer for their table. Atsumu is caught off guard once he sees Bokuto look back to meet his eyes. He gives a wink and a smile that shows off those goddamned dimples, distracting Atsumu from whatever problem he was having earlier. 

He fails to hear Sakusa’s response to him. 

“Edi alamin mo.”

* * *

_Ba't 'di pa sabihin_

_Ang hindi mo maamin?_

_Ipauubaya na lang ba 'to sa hangin?_

_Tadhana - Up Dharma Down_

A UP student’s experience will never be complete without attending the UP Fair. Filled with iconic bands, games and food stalls, it was a week long celebration of fun amidst the stress that academia had to offer.

Atsumu couldn’t fully enjoy the experience however, because of the one thing that nagged him at the back of his mind.

_Shet. Anong sasabihin ko kay Boks?_

Right now he’s standing near the iron fence that covered the fairgrounds, the opening performances and the noise of the crowd serving as a distraction from his troubled thoughts. His shoes graze the brown and green patches of the Sunken Garden, trying his best to keep himself busy. 

“Lalim ng iniisip mo diyan, ah?” He looks up to see Bokuto standing beside him, holding Snack Shack burgers and Graham Mango shakes to get them through the night. 

“Ay, sorry. Di kita napansin.” Atsumu says, lying through his teeth. 

“Gutom lang yan. Ito oh, kain muna tayo bago maghanap ng pwesto.” He hands over the food to Atsumu. 

“Oo. Mukhang mamayang gabi pa naman sila eh.”

“Ikot muna tayo?”

“Tara.”

 _This is nice._ Atsumu thinks. He’d always been at ease with Bokuto. Although Osamu knew Atsumu longer — they were twins after all — Bokuto knew Atsumu better. After afternoons spent in the _tambayan_ outside their college and nights spent in TK talking about everything and nothing, it was inevitable that they’d get to understand each other on a different level.

Atsumu is scared to tread the line between comfortable familiarity and something _more_. Why risk the comfortable for something you weren’t sure of?

They groan when they aren’t able to pop the balloons that would have earned them a ceramic plate, scream when they ride the rusty Ferris Wheel of Death, and laugh when they are offered free glow-in-the-dark condoms out of nowhere. Right now,they are having the time of their lives. 

This is when Atsumu fully realized that, _Shit, ang saya, saya ko nga talaga pag kasama ko siya._

He knew this isn’t just because of the magic of the UP Fair, where bright lights and beautiful songs built up the charm of the event. It is Bokuto, plain and simple.

Remove the stage, the music, the people, and he’d be just as happy, all because it was with him.

The emcee starts to speak, catching Bokuto’s attention.“Wait, Silent Sanctuary na ata. Hanap na tayo ng pwesto.” Bokuto grabs Atsumu’s hand, dragging him away from the booths. 

They manage to find an isolated patch of grass within the fairgrounds, far from the stage, but it offers them a clear view of the giant screen in front. Once the two get settled, the sounds of the cello start to play through the sound system, quickly followed by shouts of the festival goers near the stage. Atsumu adjusts his seating position, accidentally bumping their shoulders against each other due to the proximity.

  
_Di ko maintindihan ang nilalaman ang puso._

As the words trickle out of the speakers, Bokuto leans his head on Atsumu’s shoulder. For a moment, Atsumu freezes. Bokuto’s hair tickles the side of his neck. He becomes extremely conscious of each breath, each word being hummed by the presence right beside him. 

His heart is beating fast, rivaling the sounds of the drums on stage. He tries his best to calm down, so he sings along. 

_Sa lahat ng aking ginagawa_

_Ikaw lamang ang nasa isip ko, sinta_

Silent Sanctuary continues to play, a spell somehow cast in the vicinity of the Sunken Garden as the music washes over the crowd.

In the middle of the song, Bokuto voices out an observation. “Parang ang sad pumunta sa UP Fair ng mag-isa no?” 

Atsumu is surprised by the question, but he responds. “Oo nga.”

“Tapos puro pa mag-jowa kasi Valentine’s ngayon.”

Atsumu swallows hard before replying, unsure with what Bokuto is trying to say. “Sorry, ako lang date mo ngayon ngayong Valentine’s, Boks. I hope you’re not feeling lonely.”

Bokuto looks up to Atsumu, a frown on his face. “Ano ka ba? I’m not lonely. You’re here.”

“Oo, but that’s different. I’m always here.” Atsumu reasons.

“Exactly.” 

The two continue to sit in comfortable silence, sitting side-by-side as the emcees try to engage the crowd before they introduce the next act. 

_Maybe this is the time to do it,_ Atsumu thinks.

He mustered enough courage to speak his next sentence. “Boks, I need to tell you-”

Before he could finish the sentence, the crowd goes wild as the emcees shout into their microphones. “Give it up for Up Dharma Down!”

_Talk about bad timing._

“Uy! UDD na!” Bokuto shouts and stands up immediately. “Tara, Tsumu? Gusto mo lumapit?” 

The two squeeze through the crowd, trying to find a good spot until they settle somewhere that was good enough to see the performers. They are surrounded by couples in various states of embraces and handholding, and Atsumu can feel his cheeks warming up at the sight.

It is a good thing that Bokuto does not notice, his attention still glued to the stage. His eyes are twinkling with delight as soon as the lead singer takes the mic to test it. 

Bokuto looks over to Atsumu. “Sorry. May sinasabi ka ba kanina?”

“Ah, wala. Naexcite lang ako.”

Before Bokuto can follow up his train of thought, the familiar notes of the band’s song start playing. 

_Tatakbo._

_Gagalaw._

_Nag-iisip ba kung dapat bang bumitaw._

“Bakit ang layo mo, Tsum-Tsum? Lapit ka sa akin, dali.” He offers his hand, which Atsumu takes wordlessly. Once Atsumu takes his place beside him, Bokuto places his hand on the small of Atsumu’s back.

Atsumu gulps, his mouth running dry. They’re close — too close — and Atsumu’s trying his best not to let his nerves get the best of him. Eventually, Bokuto’s hand lifts from his back, an exhale of relief slipping through his lips. They mouth the words to the song until the end, joining hundreds of others who have been anticipating this act all night. 

“Okay pa ba kayo diyan?” The lead singer asks, earning another roar from the crowd. “Thank you for celebrating Valentine’s with us. Our next song is dedicated para sa mga nagmahal, nagmamahal at sa mga umaasang magmamahal muli. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

The tunes of the synth and keyboard start to echo throughout the fairgrounds. For the first time that night, the crowd falls into a hushed silence, letting only the music and the sounds of the night fill the air.

_Sa hindi inaasahang_

_Pagtatagpo ng mga mundo_

At this moment, Atsumu is completely aware of Bokuto’s presence. The knuckles of their hands brush against each other. It’s indiscernible, a light touch that is unavoidable given the little distance in between them. 

But it happens again. 

Atsumu tilts his head, only to see Bokuto already looking at him. 

_Ibinubunyag ka ng iyong mata_

_Sumisigaw ng pagsinta_

The tips of their fingers touch. Then their palms. 

Atsumu makes a move, his fingers sliding through the spaces between Bokuto’s. Once their fingers are intertwined, Bokuto gives the hand he’s holding a gentle squeeze.

Atsumu is relieved that Bokuto doesn’t pull away. 

The song continues to play in the background, a soundtrack of a moment that’s been playing over and over in Atsumu’s head the entire night. 

He inhales deeply. “Boks, may kailangan ako sabihin sa’yo.”

“Ano yun?”

_Ba't 'di pa sabihin_

_Ang hindi mo maamin?_

_Ipauubaya na lang ba 'to sa hangin?_

As if destiny, fate or whatever force of nature conspires with what Atsumu is planning to do, fireworks light up the night sky. The crackling sounds obscure Atsumu’s words.

“Boks, gusto kita.”

Bokuto turns his head in surprise. “Huh?”

Atsumu repeats his words carefully, his voice more determined than ever. “Sabi ko gusto kita.”

He remembers the journey that he went through, the nights of overthinking, confusion and sheer stupidity that led to this moment. 

Atsumu doesn’t regret a single second of it.

The boy beside him laughs softly, leaning in towards Atsumu. 

Their position, side-by-side in the middle of a sea of lovers old and new.

The timing, with the music and fireworks still in the background of this moment. 

Their angle, with Bokuto’s lips near his ear, prepared to whisper his response. He speaks quietly, but his words are loud enough to drown out the noise of their surroundings. 

Atsumu’s lips curl up as he asks Bokuto to repeat what he said, wanting to hear the words over and over again. 

Atsumu doesn’t want to change a thing. 

To him, this is perfect.

_Huwag mong ikatakot_

_Ang bulong ng damdamin mo_

_Naririto ako't nakikinig sa'yo_

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do not perceive me. Ayoko sabihin kung alin diyan ang totoo at hindi HAHAHAH MASYADONG MARAMING PINAGHUGUTAN KAYA ANG DALDAL KO TULOY
> 
> anyway yun lang TY for reading pls do not judge HAHAHAHA
> 
> kwento ko na lang sa inyo via Twitter DMs @Bokkuatsu (CHAROT DON'T ASK ME PLS WAHAHAHHA)


	2. English Translation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, I ask you to not perceive me HAHAHA 
> 
> A lot of things are set in the Philippines and based on IRL experiences of mine and my friends (of course I took some liberty to tweak it.
> 
> Some context:  
> \- Tambayan - a place to hang out for students within the college. Usually just a table with chairs. Back then we had a kind of hut with a stone table and bench. It was nice.  
> \- Tita (Aunt) and Kuya (Big Brother) - in the PH, we use these terms to refer to people even if we're not related by blood. Tita is an older woman, especially if it's a family friend, and Kuya is an older man.  
> \- Not sure how it goes in other countries, but it's normal to stay in coffee shops/restaurants over night to study. Good times.  
> \- UP Fair - A week long night festival held with in the campus. It's got booths filled with foods, sketchy carnival rides, big bands, the whole shebang.

_ Bilisan mo at buksan mo na 'yan _ _   
_ _ At gaganda ang ating samahan _ _   
_ _ Penge naman ako n'yan _

_ Penge naman ako n'yan - Itchyworms _

A lot of people say that college will be the best years of your life.

Atsumu Miya snorts at the thought. _ Best years, my ass. _

If his best years include endless requirements, 2AM breakdowns at coffee shops and org responsibilities that had him running on four hours of sleep on a daily basis, then Atsumu is already having the time of his life.

Atsumu soldiers on, continuing to type on his laptop as the sounds of jeepneys passing through the academic oval drown in the background. He has no choice. The impending deadlines has him in a chokehold, and his extracurriculars are filling up every free spot in his calendar. 

He really can’t catch a break, can he?

Atsumu checks his notebook, filled with messy scribbles that he could barely decipher. This is admittedly a bad habit of his, considering the fact that journalism required him to always be ready to take down notes anytime, anywhere.

People have wondered why he didn’t pursue sports science in college. It is a well known fact that he was one of the top setters — if not _the_ top setter — in the country during his high school years. Many schools had scouted him after all, giving him the privilege of choosing whatever school he’d wanted. 

Undoubtedly, Atsumu loved sports — he still does. He loves the thrill of the matches and the adrenaline rush that accompanies it. Volleyball ran in his blood, but he also wanted a college degree he could use to pursue a future beyond the court. As a compromise, he decided to focus on Sports Journalism, a way to merge his passion and his dream career. To make this dream happen, Atsumu knew he had to go for the best. Once he saw his name posted on the website along with thousands of hopeful  _ iskolars ng bayan _ , he already knew the University of the Philippines was it for him. 

But as the saying goes, the best things in life don’t come easy.

“Huy.” 

Atsumu doesn’t hear the voice behind him, his head too focused to make progress with the word document currently flashing on his laptop screen. Atsumu never liked distractions, only focusing on his vision of him donning his own  _ sablay _ in front of fully bloomed sunflowers along University Avenue.

“Tsum-Tsum. Notice me.” 

With a gentle tap on his shoulder, Atsumu turns to see his friend greet him with a wide grin and freshly cooked pancit canton in hand.

“Hey, what’s that? Is that for me?” Atsumu teases, the smell of his favorite food invading his senses.  _ Fuck. _ He hadn’t eaten properly that day, back-to-back classes making it impossible for him to eat aside from the quick  _ taho _ he’d bought along the way.

Bokuto barks out a laugh as he sits opposite him at the usual stone table  _ tambayan _ they’ve claimed over the years. “Fuck off. This is my lunch.”

“Bokuto, you’re so greedy.” Atsumu huffs, instead continuing to work on his paper. His eyes flitter from the screen to the noodles in Bokuto’s hand, already being devoured by the burly man. Bokuto notices his friend staring at him, so he pauses in between bites.

“Did you want some?” Bokuto says, offering his forkful of noodles to Atsumu and placing it mere inches from his lips. “Here, I’ll feed you.”

Atsumu gulps. He wants to eat it so,  _ so  _ badly. The rumbling in his stomach isn’t helping him any, so he decides to agree. His mouth opens to accept Bokuto’s offer, the taste of the spicy and tangy blend of chili and calamansi exploding on his tongue. It’s a momentary respite, a much needed break from his writing sprint. He closes his eyes, allowing the flavors to melt in his mouth. “Mmm. Shit, this is so good.” 

Bokuto is amused by his expression. “Do you want more?” He twirls another forkful of noodles and brings it closer to Atsumu who’s ready to eat it, when a loud voice shouts from far away.

“Hey! Stop flirting.” Sakusa shouts as he approaches. Anyone could see him from a mile away, the neon green jacket he’s wearing begging for attention as he comes out from the main building. 

“Who’s flirting?” Bokuto yells back, dropping the fork on his plate. Atsumu whimpers at the missed opportunity to take another bite of the wonderful delicacy that is pancit canton. “I’m just feeding Atsumu. Right, bro?”

Atsumu goes along with the joke . “Of course. Nothing to see here, Omi.” The two exchange looks, their eyes shining with a hint of playfulness. They’d take any opportunity to mess with Sakusa.

Their plan worked, it seems, as Sakusa drops his bag on the table. He stares intently at the two with his signature scowl. “Please, stop. You’re so embarrassing. You act so lovey-dovey, it’s disgusting.”   


Atsumu rolls his eyes.  _ Typical Omi.  _ Among the three of them, Sakusa had always been the odd one out. Where Atsumu and Bokuto were always the life of the party, Sakusa would rather blend in the background and watch the two make a fool of themselves.  The three of them had met during their first year, competing against each other during their college’s annual interdepartment games. Though they came from different courses, they eventually found a way to become friends and by some miracle, managed to stay friends well into their third year in college.

Atsumu grunts, going back to working on his paper. “Whatever, Omi. Why are you here anyway? Don’t you have class?”

“We got a free cut. I just dropped by to check if you guys wanted to join me at the mall.” Sakusa shrugs his shoulders. Bokuto and Atsumu exchange looks, perking up immediately at their friend’s offer.

“Your treat?” Bokuto asks. Atsumu snorts at his friend’s question, knowing full well that Bokuto was as shameless as they came. 

Sakusa frowns. “Fuck you. Do I look like I have that kind of money?”

“Well, we’re not the ones driving a BMW. You are.” Atsumu jumps in, his eyes barely leaving the screen of his laptop.

“Excuse me, that’s my family’s old car. It’s a hand-me-down. ”

“Yeah, dude. Because your parents drive a Porsche!” By this time Atsumu and Bokuto are howling with laughter. As much as Sakusa tries to play it cool, it is a well known fact that Sakusa is what one would call a  _ rich kid _ . He is the heir to his family’s business, and him taking up Communication Research to maximize his market research skills was planned from the very start. 

“Fuck you, guys.” Sakusa takes his place beside Atsumu on the bench, pulling out the fresh stack of readings he had recently photocopied from earlier. “So what? Are you joining me at Starbucks? Boks, we can go to Gold’s gym afterwards.”

Bokuto nods. “Of course! Tsumu, what about you? What are your plans?” 

“Sorry guys, I can’t. I have three articles due tomorrow, so I’m hanging out at the library later.” Atsumu tilts his head back and groans in frustration. There is always too much on his plate, that much is sure, but he still has every intention of making it work. “I’m gonna have to pass up on the offer. Looks like another all-nighter. Fuck.”

“Where are you going later for your all-nighter? I’ll join you.” Bokuto asks. “I have to fix some stuff for Videography class.” As a Broadcast Communication major, Bokuto loved being behind the camera as much as he loved being in front of it. His gregarious personality made him fit for his course, his dream to make great content for television — whether starring in it or producing it — becoming a reality.

“Ah, I’m joining Samu. They’re studying later at Shakeys.”

“You’re gonna be thirdwheeling them?” Sakusa asks quizzically. 

“Samu’s buying pizza apparently. Who am I to say no to that?”

“But did they ask you to join them?” Bokuto asks.

The more his friends asked him questions, the more he realizes how he completely missed all the cues that indicated that it was, in fact, a date night for his twin and his boyfriend. Atsumu falls silent for a few seconds, trying to determine a response that didn’t make him look like a complete fool. “Technically, they didn’t say I couldn’t  _ not  _ join them.”

“You’re so stupid, Miya. They’re going on a date. Have some decency.” Sakusa says, his fingers still arranging the readings in the proper order.

Atsumu smacks Sakusa by the arm, earning a glare from the black-haired man. “Fuck you, Kiyoomi. He’s my brother, it’s fine.”

Sakusa sighs, then gestures to their friend who is still happily eating his instant noodles. “Okay. It’s your brother, right? Why don’t you ask Boks to join you later, make it a double date.”

This time, it is Atsumu’s turn to scowl. “Again, Fuck you, Kiyoomi.”

“Whatever. It’s not my fault you can’t get a hint, dumbass.” With a smirk, Sakusa picks up his readings and bag. “Boks, let’s go? Leave the idiot here.”

“Omi, you’re so mean!” Bokuto replies, clearing his silver paper plate for the last bits of noodles. 

“I never said I was nice. So, are you joining me or should I leave you here too?” 

“Okay, okay. I’m going!” Bokuto picks up his bag, leaving Atsumu behind. He is still busy typing up words on his laptop, and fears he’d lose his focus if he leaves his seat. “Hey Tsum-Tsum. Are you sure you’ll be okay here?”   
  
“Oo naman.” Atsumu says, waving him away. “Text mo na lang ako if susunod ka mamaya ah..”

“Okay, sige.” The concern in Bokuto’s voice is audible, but Atsumu pays no notice to it. He’ll be fine, making sure to do whatever it takes to get through this hell week unscathed. As he types, he feels arms embracing him in from behind, forcing his hands to stay still.

“Boks? What are you doing?” Atsumu says, not moving an inch.

“I’m hugging you.” 

“I know. Why?”

“Felt like you needed one” Bokuto replies simply, as if this were a completely normal thing to do. The two froze in that position for a few seconds, until they hear Sakusa shouting from behind them.

“KOUTAROU. YOU’RE SO SLOW!”

Atsumu swats Bokuto’s hands away, forcing the burly man to let go. “Shoo! Get going already!”

“Okay, okay. Good luck, Tsumu. Labyu.” Before Atsumu could respond, Bokuto had run back to Sakusa.

_ What was that all about? _

He hears Sakusa scolding Bokuto. “You  _ really _ had to flirt with Miya?” Bokuto’s laughter is the only response he hears, slowly fading away as they leave the vicinity.

Atsumu has no idea what just happened, but this isn’t unusual. In their college, hugs are the currency of choice when greeting other friends, so he really thinks nothing of it. Atsumu decides to go back to the paper he is working on, but notices the paper plate Bokuto forgot to dispose of.

He frowns, making a mental note to scold Bokuto for leaving his mess on the tables yet again. The idea of the paper plate, however, reminds him of his current concern. His stomach growls, the bite of pancit canton from earlier not enough to satiate his hunger.

He wishes Bokuto would have fed him more. 

_ Dammit. I want more. _

* * *

_ Gagawin ko ang lahat pati ang thesis mo _

_ Huwag mo lang ipagkait ang hinahanap ko _

_ Ligaya - Eraserheads _

Later that night, Shakey’s is unusually packed on a Tuesday evening. A mix of customers fill the tables, from families happily eating dinner to college students inching their way to the electric sockets placed on the walls. 

In one corner of the restaurant, Osamu, Akaashi and Atsumu occupy a booth. Osamu and Akaashi have their laptops out, all the while feeding each other slices of pizza they’ve ordered to get them through the night. Opposite them sat Atsumu, feeding himself with readings he needed to finish in time for class the next day.

“Hello? I’m studying here. Have some respect.” Atsumu says, the look of disgust visible on his face as he cringes at the sickeningly sweet display of affection in front of him.

“Who asked you to study here, anyway?” Osamu replies, irritated at the presence of his twin brother.   
  
“Who asked you to flirt here, anyway?

"Who bought the pizza you’re eating right now?" Osamu retorts, gesturing to the slice in his hand.

"Hey, my mom always said to share your blessings!" 

"Fuck off, we have the same mom!”

The twins continue bickering, which thankfully, the other customers ignored. Akaashi minds his own business, continuing to work on his paper with one hand, and held a pizza slice in the other. He is used to this after months of dating Osamu, so fights among the twins are simply common fare.

In the middle of their argument, Atsumu stops talking as a familiar face appears at the entrance. Entering the establishment is Bokuto, who looked like he came straight from the gym with damp hair and a shirt that accentuates the muscles of his arms. 

Whatever argument he was having with Osamu is promptly forgotten.

“You’re just here to eat the free food, so stop getting in the way with my babe time with Keiji! Tsumu. ATSUMU!” Osamu raises his voice. Once he noticed that Atsumu stopped paying attention to him, he smacks his hand on the side of his twin’s head. 

Atsumu yelps, rubbing the side of his head. “Ouch! What the fuck, Why’d you have to smack me in the head?”

“You were ignoring me! What the hell are you looking at-” Osamu turns to look behind him, seeing the object of Atsumu’s attention. “Ah. That makes sense.” Osamu waves over Bokuto, inviting him to come over. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto greets, giving the trio a cheerful wave as he approaches the table. “Can I sit with you guys?”

Osamu stands up to greet him with a pat on the back. “Boks! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you!”

“I know. I’ve been super busy with my prod classes. It’s always shoots and editing.” 

“Really? Glad you could join us tonight!” Osamu’s cheerful demeanor immediately changed when he glared at his twin. “Atsumu, have some shame. Move your ass so Boks can sit down.”

“Samu, you’re such a nasty person.”

“Your face is nastier. Now move!”

Atsumu scoots over, leaving enough space for Bokuto to settle down in the booth. “What the fuck! We’re twins, we have the same face!” 

Osamu doesn’t dignify Atsumu’s complaint, instead putting his attention back to Akaashi. Atsumu looks at his twin in disbelief, not believing the amount of shit he’s being given at this time of the night.

Resigned, Atsumu goes back to his readings, looking for the specific paragraph he left off. Beside him, Bokuto pulls out his laptop, the screen glowing as it boots up.

“What are you gonna study, Boks?” Atsumu asks. His hand moves steadily as he highlights keywords from the pages of his readings. 

“I’m trying to come up with a concept for my next prod. I need to shoot something that’s purely close-up angles. ”

“Oh. Have you thought of something already?”

“I was thinking food.” Bokuto’s screen is currently filled with a variety of glorious food shots. He angles his laptop towards Atsumu to give him a view of his pegs. “It looks great up close, plus the colors would look good. It would look  _ really  _ good, I think. Although I have to shoot this week already, the submission’s next week.”

Atsumu looks over at Bokuto, who clearly looks frustrated over this requirement of his. As his friend, of course he’d do anything to help him out, and who better else to ask for help from than his twin? Quickly, he pulls up a tab on his laptop and chats Osamu. 

> Hey.
> 
> What do you want?
> 
> Can I ask for a favor?
> 
> Help Boks out.
> 
> Please?
> 
> Where????
> 
> For his prod. 
> 
> It’s about food.
> 
> He needs to shoot someone cooking up close
> 
> And you thought of me??
> 
> Yes.. 
> 
> because it’s food.
> 
> Aren’t you Food Tech? 
> 
> Aren’t you supposed to be good with food?
> 
> Idiot.
> 
> You do know Food tech isn’t just about cooking right?
> 
> But you’re good at cooking right?
> 
> Osamu, reply to me.
> 
> I know you’re online, asshole.
> 
> Stop flirting with Keiji.
> 
> He’s right beside you wtf.
> 
> Fuck off.
> 
> Whatever. I’m in. 
> 
> Damn, can’t believe you’re using me to flirt again.
> 
> Huh?
> 
> Flirting?
> 
> With Boks.
> 
> Stop trying to pretend.
> 
> I know you have a crush on him.
> 
> You’ve been staring at him for the past hour.
> 
> I’M NOT FLIRTING WITH HIM
> 
> We’re just friends.
> 
> Promise.
> 
> HAHAHAHAHHAHAA
> 
> You’re so funny.
> 
> What a joke.
> 
> SHUT UP SAMU
> 
> ARE YOU GONNA HELP OUT OR NOT?
> 
> Fine. But you have to treat me to lunch.
> 
> Fine. What do you want?
> 
> Yabu
> 
> YABU??
> 
> Don’t you want something cheaper like, Tokyo-Tokyo?
> 
> Look, it’s simple.
> 
> If you don’t want me to do it, fine with me.
> 
> Good luck.
> 
> COME ON SAMU
> 
> I’M JUST KIDDING
> 
> Fine.
> 
> I’ll treat you to Yabu.
> 
> Okay.
> 
> Screenshotted and sent to Keiji for posterity.
> 
> I know you Tsumu
> 
> You better not weasel your way out of this one.
> 
> WTF???????
> 
> [Seen 9:50 PM]

Osamu clears his throat. “Boks, sorry. You said you needed a talent for your prod?” 

Bokuto perks up immediately. “Yes, I need them to cook while I shoot them. Do you have any leads?”

“I’m game. I can make my special onigiri for you.”

Bokuto’s face lit up immediately. “Oh my god, are you serious? Thanks Osamu, you’re my savior. I can treat you to lunch, your choice.”

“No need!” Osamu says with a mischievous grin. “Atsumu’s gonna treat me. He stills owes me one.”

Atsumu’s body becomes stiff as he heard Osamu’s words.  _ Fuck you, Osamu. Don’t expose me like this. _

With a playful nudge, Bokuto asks, “What? Why don’t you ever treat me, Atsumu?”   
  
Atsumu stares daggers at his twin. He opens his mouth, trying to come up with a response. “Ah, that’s because…”

“Just kidding. You don’t have to treat me. Your presence is enough.” Bokuto throws an arm around Atsumu, pulling him in for a sideways hug.

All Atsumu could do is laugh nervously. Once Bokuto lets go of Atsumu, he proceeds to discuss with Osamu the details for the shoot on Saturday. In turn, Atsumu decides to return his focus on his readings. A ping sounds from his laptop, so Atsumu clicks to see the message in full.

> Hey.
> 
> Try to hide your excitement.
> 
> You’re being too obvious, Atsumu.

Atsumu scoffs. He looks incredulously at his twin, who just raised an eyebrow at him in return. 

He types furiously, his reply a default response to his brother over the years.

> Fuck off, Osamu.

* * *

_ Ang tawag niya sa mommy ko ay tita _ _   
_ _ Bakit ba, 'di ko no'n nakita _

_ This Guy's in love with you pare - Parokya ni Edgar _

On Saturday, the smell of good food wafted through the Miya Household. 

Osamu had prepared his homemade onigiri  — a trademark dish of is  —  and Bokuto was there to capture it all on camera. 

Atsumu looks on, his mouth watering at the thought of the delicious food Osamu is preparing. He hasn’t eaten yet, instead choosing to wait for Osamu to finish cooking and finally get a taste of the rice balls he’s only made on special occasions.

“Okay, Cut.” Bokuto says as he reviews the footage in his camera. “Nice, that’s the last shot, so we’re good. Thanks again, Samu!”

Osamu smiles, lifting the tray and heads towards the dining room table. “No problem, Boks. Here, have a taste, before Atsumu gets his greedy hands on it.”

Atsumu exclaims from where he is seated. “Hello? I’m right here?”

“I know.” Osamu laughs. Bokuto follows behind, eating away at the onigiri offered to him.

The three gather around the table, eating merrily when Mrs. Miya — affectionately called as Mama Miya by friends of the twins — approach the trio. To others, Mama Miya is the  _ cool mom _ , and everyone loves her. (The twins, however, think otherwise about their mom being cool in any sense of the word.)

“Oh, smells good! Did you make these, Osamu?”

“Yes, Ma. Boks has a video requirement for his prod class, I helped him out.”

“That’s good! Hi Kou! You’re looking especially handsome today.” Mama Miya pinches Bokuto’s cheeks before she leans in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek _.  _

Bokuto smiles cheerfully as he gives her a hug in return. “Thank you, Tita! How are you?”   
  
“I’m fine, just have a headache because of these two.” Mama Miya chuckles as the twins groan. “Where’s Keiji? Is he coming over here?”    
  
Osamu replies, already busy sending a text on his phone. “No, ma. I’ll drop by his house in a bit, I’m bringing him onigiri then we’ll study there.”   
  
“Okay! Say hi for his mom for me, ah! Don’t stay out too late.”

Osamu rolls his eyes as he heads towards the stairs. “Yes, Ma. I know!”    
  
Atsumu and Bokuto exchange looks, knowing full well that studying wouldn’t be the priority on Osamu and Akaashi’s agenda. They try to hold back their laughter, not wanting to raise suspicion from the woman in front of them. 

“Mom said to  _ study _ , Samu!” Atsumu shouts, earning a quick middle finger from his twin. 

Trying to steer the conversation in a different direction before they get into trouble, Bokuto speaks. “By the way Tita, thank you for letting me shoot here!”   
  
In a typical  _ tita  _ manner, Mama Miya replies gleefully. “Anytime, Kou! You know you’re always welcome here. It’s been a while since you and Omi have been here. How have you been?”

“I’ve been busy with acads. It’s a good thing Atsumu’s always here to help me study.”

“That’s good! How’s your lovelife?” 

Atsumu glares at his mom. His mom loved getting to know his and Osamu’s friends, always offering their house as a place to hang out over the years. It just irritates him to no end that his mom would sometimes get a bit  _ too  _ friendly, wanting to meddle in the personal lives of their friends.

But the thing is, Bokuto is such a people person. Their professors loved him, parents loved him, hell, even random strangers who drank at Drew’s loved him. He was  _ so _ good at making conversation, and since he was close to Atsumu’s mom, of course he couldn’t  _ not _ answer her question.

“Oh, I don’t have that, tita. There’s too many things going on with school.” Bokuto replies, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Ah. Is that so? I thought you and Atsumu were together already.”

Bokuto guffaws at the woman’s words. Atsumu on the other hand, nearly chokes mid-bite. He couldn’t  _ believe  _ that his mom would even consider that as an option. 

“Ma! I’m eating over here!” Atsumu shouts.

“How would I know! You’re always together. Osamu has Keiji, how about you?”   
  
At this point, embarrassment is clearly written all over Atsumu’s face. “Have some shame, Ma! Boks is right there!”

Mama Miya and Bokuto are cackling hysterically at Atsumu’s reaction, enjoying how flustered he had gotten. 

As if things weren’t bad enough already for Atsumu, Bokuto decides to fuel the fire. “Your mom’s right, Atsumu. When will you make a move? I’m waiting over here.”

Atsumu blushes, not knowing how to respond to that. He decides to shove the remainder of the rice ball in his mouth in shame. Atsumu really isn’t one to be embarrassed easily, but the level of humiliation he’s facing now with his best friend and his mom conspiring against him is on a whole different tier. 

To Atsumu’s relief, Mama Miya finally decides to bid goodbye to the two. “You two are so cute. Anyway, if you kids need me, I’ll be upstairs okay? Make yourself at home, Koutarou!”

“Okay Tita! Thank you again!”

Mama Miya heads upstairs, her footsteps growing quieter by the second. The two continue with the remainder of their meal, but Bokuto notices that the usually talkative Atsumu hasn’t spoken in a while. 

“Hey, Atsumu. Are you okay?” Bokuto asks.

Atsumu mumbles in response. “I’m fine.” 

“Okay. I hope you weren’t offended. You  _ do  _ know I was just joking around, right?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not easily offended like Omi.”

“Hey! But you’re not wrong.”

Despite his sour demeanor, Atsumu manages to smile. “I’m not wrong.”

Bokuto checks his watch for the time, not noticing how much time has passed. “Okay, I have to leave in a bit. There’s so much editing to do. ”

The tiniest hint of disappointment flashed through Atsumu’s face. “Are you sure? You can stay here if you want, you know?”

“Nah, bro. My hard drive’s at home, the editing’s gonna be deadly so I’d better work on this at home. But thanks again for your help, Tsumu!”

“Anytime...bro.”

“Hey, I’m not kidding. It means a lot.” Bokuto holds Atsumu’s hands in his, taking Atsumu by surprise. 

“Come on, Boks. It’s nothing.”

Bokuto continues, staring intently at Atsumu. Atsumu meet his gaze, golden yellow eyes demanding his full attention. “No, for real. I’m super thankful that I met you, and I don’t know what college life would be without you.”

Atsumu blinks once, twice, then chuckles as he removes his hands from Bokuto’s. “Why are you so cheesy?”

“Am I not allowed to be cheesy?”

“I’m just not used to it. You’re acting as if we won’t see each other again next week.” The two laugh, breaking the sentimental moment between the two of them.

After cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, it was time for Bokuto to go. Atsumu accompanies him to his car, greeting him goodbye. “Bye, Boks.”

“I’m leaving. Don’t miss me too much, okay?” Bokuto teases as he enters the driver’s seat. 

“In your dreams!”

Once Bokuto’s car drives away, Atsumu heads back to his room. His fingers tap on his phone screen, and decides to send a text to Bokuto. His mind still reeling from Bokuto’s farewell, he decides to follow up on his joke. 

> Miss u. 😘
> 
> Excuse me?

Atsumu’s eyes dart towards the top of the screen, checking the recipient of the text.  _ Oh fuck. _

> SHIT.
> 
> SORRY OMI
> 
> That was meant for Boks.
> 
> Jesus fucking Christ.
> 
> Don’t drag me into your flirty texts, my god.
> 
> I’m not flirting with him!
> 
> You remind me so much of Egypt.
> 
> Egypt? Huh?
> 
> What are you talking about?
> 
> You live in a river of denial.
> 
> Asshole
> 
> I’m not denying anything!
> 
> Really?
> 
> So you admit you have a crush on Boks?
> 
> I don’t.
> 
> I don’t know what to tell you, but that’s denial right there.
> 
> I DON’T HAVE A THING FOR HIM
> 
> WHY ARE YOU FORCING THIS????
> 
> Do you want a powerpoint presentation to show you that you do?
> 
> YOU WON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO PRESENT
> 
> BECAUSE THERE’S NOTHING
> 
> NOTHING
> 
> N O T H I N G
> 
> Really?
> 
> Then why would you text him “Miss u” with a kiss emoji?
> 
> That’s not what “just friends” do, Miya. 
> 
> IT’S A JOKE
> 
> Why won’t you believe me :(((
> 
> Jokes are half meant, you know.
> 
> And this isn’t the first time you’ve made these kinds of jokes
> 
> Just friends don’t do surprise hugs from behind.
> 
> Just friends don’t text each other ‘Miss u’ out of nowhere.
> 
> Just friends don’t bend over backwards for an excuse to spend that much time together.
> 
> Aren’t you tired? Just admit it already.
> 
> What would I admit if there’s nothing to admit anyway?
> 
> Are you sure about that?
> 
> Why are you forcing this?
> 
> Because you’re giving me a headache.
> 
> And contrary to popular belief, I actually care about my friends, 
> 
> and I want you both to be happy.
> 
> OMI
> 
> YOU’RE SO SWEET
> 
> Try saying that to anyone else, I’ll smack you.
> 
> HEY
> 
> YOU REALLY THINK I’D DO THAT?
> 
> Yes.
> 
> Well
> 
> you’re not wrong….
> 
> Anyway
> 
> I have better things to do.
> 
> But think about what I said.
> 
> Are you really just friends?
> 
> Omi, why are you like this?
> 
> [Seen: 7:03 PM]

Atsumu sighs and plops back on his mattress. For the past few days, his mind’s been in a whirlpool of emotions. His academics notwithstanding, his thoughts are a mess, and the incidents with Osamu, his mom and now with Kiyoomi added to his feelings that he didn’t quite know how to deal with just yet.

For the longest time, he and Bokuto had been friends, constants that became a part of each other’s college routine. It isn’t surprising, really, considering the fact that their proximity was just a few meters apart, so whatever spare time they had was spent with each other.

It was normal, Bokuto had become a part of his life, just as Atsumu had become a part of his. This isn’t supposed to be complicated. Of course, one couldn’t survive the last stretches of your academic life without having a support system, it just so happened that his support system happened to be a person he spent a lot of time — perhaps to others,  _ too much _ time — with on a daily basis. 

He doesn’t think of Bokuto  _ that _ way. Does he?

Even Atsumu isn’t so sure anymore.

Why is he so bothered? What does it matter anyway? 

Frustrated, Atsumu closes his eyes and clears his head. 

_ Whatever,  _ he thinks. He decides to make this tomorrow’s problem, letting the Atsumu Miya of tomorrow deal with it instead.

For now, he sleeps.

* * *

_ Nahihilo, nalilito.  _

_ Asan ba ko sa'yo?  _

_ Aasa pa ba sa'yo?  _

_ \- Migraine, Moonstar 88 _

“Miya.”

Atsumu grumbles, his face still flat against the readings he used as a make-shift pillow.

“Miya. Wake up.” Sakusa’s voice is stern, a sound that even more annoying than his phone’s alarm. 

Atsumu refuses to budge an inch. “I don’t want to.”

“It’s 8AM. Your exam’s at 8:30 right?”

Atsumu’s eyes dart open in shock, feeling his blood run cold at the thought of missing his midterm exams. “Fuck!” 

He sits up suddenly, disoriented at the sight before him. All he sees are students in the current state as him, laboring over papers and readings. Laptops and books stand on top of the tables in the coffee shop they’re in. Outside, he sees darkness, save for the headlights of cars passing by Katipunan Avenue. “Huh? Why is it still dark?”

He flips over his phone, checking to see the time. 1:14 AM. 

Atsumu shoots an angry glare at his friend. “Fuck you, Kiyoomi! I almost had a heart attack because of you!”

“You said to wake you up after your nap.” Sakusa says unapologetically. “It worked, right?”

“Fuck you.”

Sakusa brushes off the insult, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Anyway, I have to go. I’m just waiting for Boks to come back. He just bought coffee to get the wifi password.”

“Oh, I still have some Kopiko.” Atsumu responds, pulling out a tiny plastic bottle from his bag. 

Sakusa grimaces at the sight. Atsumu’s taste in coffee is simple. If it woke him up, it was enough. While others preferred Starbucks in glass bottles for a quick convenience store pick-me-up, Kopiko 78 is Atsumu’s holy grail of caffeine. (Their powdered barako variant is a close second.)

With disgust, Sakusa tries to chastise the fake blonde. “My god, have some shame, Atsumu.”

“Why would I be ashamed?”

Sakusa rolls his eyes, refusing to acknowledge Atsumu’s cheapskate behavior. He looks over his shoulder to see Bokuto climbing the stairs, two cups of coffee in hand with a smile so wide that should not be possible at this ungodly hour. 

“Hey, he’s awake.” Bokuto says, placing down the cups of coffee on the table.

“Good, you’re here. I have to go home now.” Sakusa says, phone in hand as he prepares to leave. 

“Sure. How will you get home?” Bokuto asks as he takes his seat beside Atsumu. 

“Oh, I have a driver. I’m too sleepy to drive now.”

“Ha? What about your car?” 

“Ah, he’s gonna drive it. He took a cab to fetch me.” Sakusa says nonchalantly, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. 

Bokuto repeats Sakusa’s statement, trying his best to make sense of what he said. “Wait. You had your driver take a cab all the way from South to North _?  _ That’s so expensive! _ ” _

“Yeah. Dad’s gonna pay for it anyway.”

Atsumu interjects, mumbling his words due to the drowsiness he was feeling. “Fuck. I hate rich people.”

Sakusa does not dignify it with a response. “Whatever. He’s gonna be here soon, so I’m heading out. Will you two be okay?”

“No problem!” Bokuto replies, slinging his arm over Atsumu. Atsumu’s sleepy eyes suddenly go wide once he feels the tight grip of Bokuto’s hand on his arm. “Right, Tsum-Tsum?”

Sakusa narrows his eyes at the two. “Whatever. Enjoy your  _ study _ date. Bye guys.” Atsumu looks suspiciously at Sakusa, noticing the inflection in his voice. 

This apparently flies over the head of Bokuto as he calls after their friend. “Bye Omi! Take care!” 

After Sakusa leaves, they decide to change their arrangement and settle on opposite ends of the table, getting ready for another long night ahead of them.

Atsumu doesn’t let the cups of coffee go unnoticed. “Boks, that’s too much caffeine. Are you okay?”   
  
“Ha? Oh no. The other one’s for you!” Bokuto places the other coffee beside Atsumu's laptop. True enough, an approximation of his name is written on the cup. ‘Achumu, Fighting!’, it says, scribbled on the cup’s surface with permanent marker. 

With a sigh, Atsumu accepts. He wasn't planning on going beyond his budget, but he could really use a decent cup of coffee tonight. Atsumu pulls out his wallet, checking to see if he has enough bills to cover it. “Fine. How much is it?”

Bokuto waves him off. “No, it’s my treat. Consider it a good luck for your exam tomorrow.”

Atsumu is suspicious. Bokuto isn’t one to give away things for free. “Boks, I’m serious. Let me pay for it.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Bokuto is insistent, pushing Atsumu’s hands away when he offers cash to him.    
  
“Come on, just let me pay for it already!” 

“Why won’t you let this go?” 

The two end up staring at each other, not backing down. After a while, Atsumu knew this was a fight he would lose. With a sigh, he puts the cash back in his wallet. “Fine, I’ll treat you next time and you’re not allowed to say no.”

Bokuto smiles, and goes back to editing his video. The two work quietly on their respective set-ups, doing their best to stay productive in the middle of the night. 

As the night continues, people start to go home, leaving only a few tables occupied. This also means that there is less body heat in the area, the unforgiving cold starting to seep through Atsumu’s skin.  __ He looks up, noticing the aircon was spouting cold air towards him. Of all the days he forgot to bring a jacket, it has to be today.  _ Fucking hell. _

“Are you cold?” Bokuto asks from behind his laptop screen. 

Atsumu doesn’t respond, though his arms betray him as they visibly shake from the gust of cold air that’s directly hitting his head. He continues with his work, trying his best to let the heat of his laptop give him some sort of relief from the cold. 

Without a word, Bokuto stands up. Atsumu ignores him, until he feels fabric being draped over his shoulders. He turns to see Bokuto, wearing a frown for the first time that night. 

Immediately he shrugs the jacket off, but Bokuto’s hands hold it firmly in place. “Boks. You might be cold. It’s okay, I don’t need a jacket.”

Bokuto couldn’t hold back the frustration in his voice. “Atsumu, I’m fine. Why won’t you let me take care of you?”

Atsumu responds with the same level of irritation. “Who said I needed you to take care of me?” 

“I do, because I want to. Now let me be.”

Atsumu attempts to make the conversation lighthearted again, teasing Bokuto. “What, you have a crush on me or something?”

“And if I said yes?” 

Atsumu pauses. This is not a response that he expected. 

Surely, Bokuto  _ has _ to be joking right? 

Atsumu tries to think of a response, afraid of the direction this conversation was headed towards. Instead, he chooses the strongest comeback he could think of at that moment.

“Yeah right.”

Bokuto shakes his head in disbelief, settling down on his seat. “Whatever, Atsumu. Go back to studying”

Atsumu looks slightly offended at Bokuto’s tone, annoyed at the response he gets. “You started it!”

Bokuto puts his earphones back on and completely ignores Atsumu. Right now, he’s concentrating on splicing his shots to make a production worthy of an uno. Atsumu thinks he looks cute like that, the way his eyebrows furrow and the way he bites his lower lip-

Wait. Pause.

When did Atsumu find Bokuto  _ cute _ ?

_ Shit. _

Atsumu’s face warms up as he comes to term with this realization. He refuses to acknowledge feelings, refuses to believe that the others saw what he could not. 

But god, when Bokuto looked like that, how could he refuse? 

“Atsumu, are you okay? You’re turning red.” Bokuto asks with concern. 

“Oh it’s nothing. The coffee’s too hot.” He makes a show of blowing the coffee in his hands. “I burned my tongue.” 

“Oh sorry. Should I have gotten the iced coffee? I can get some ice if you want.” Bokuto starts to get up from his seat, but Atsumu stops him.

“No, it’s fine Boks. I’ll take anything you’ll give me.”

“Okay, whatever you say.”

Bokuto looks over Atsumu and smiles, settling back in front of his laptop. Atsumu looks down and gets back to reading, trying to hide a smile that’s just as wide as his. 

* * *

_ Sapat na sa akin ang ganito, ang pagmasdan ka sa malayo.  _

_ Kapag kinausap, walang masagot.  _

_ \- Waltz of Four Left Feet, Shirebound and Busking _

Tomato Kick had always been one of the places that saw students at their best and at their worst. From budding romance to break-ups, celebrations and struggles, this hang-out bore witness to the life and times of many  _ iskos _ and  _ iskas _ that had set foot into this establishment. 

Right now, The trio were here for the nth time this semester. Midterms are finally over and they are finally allowed to breathe (for now). 

On the table were three glass bottles of cold beer, along with a plate of nachos. All of these are courtesy of Sakusa, a little treat to reward themselves for surviving yet another hell week in their junior year. 

“Finally, we made it through!” Bokuto raises his bottle in celebration. “Cheers!” 

The three of them clink their bottles together, eagerly awaiting the not-so-sweet taste of alcohol trickle down their throats. Atsumu and Bokuto down it straight from the bottle, while Sakusa carefully pours his in the glass provided for them. 

Omi follows suit, taking a sip of his own beer. “I really don’t get why you guys like that beer so much. It tastes like rust.” He looks at his own bottle,  _ Cerveza Negra _ printed in fine script. Normally, he’d rather have the finer Stella Artois or Asahi as his beer of choice, but what does he expect from a bar that serves young, broke college students? 

Atsumu retorts. In contrast, their order never went beyond the iconic Red Horse. “So what? It all tastes the same when you’re drunk.”

Bokuto laughs at Atsumu’s remark, which in turn causes Sakusa to sigh. “Why do I even ask.” 

The three continue their celebration, ordering one round after the other as they talk about their life. In the middle of their debate regarding the best CR inside the campus — which meant bidets and functional flushes, a voice calls out from beyond the glass door that separates the indoor and outdoor crowd. “Bokuto!” 

Bokuto looks toward the voice, excited by the sight of an old friend. “Uy, Bro! How are you!” Bokuto stands to head over to the man who called him over. Before he leaves, he turns to his friends.“Hang on for a minute, guys ah? I’m just gonna say hi.”

Atsumu’s eyes follow him as he takes another swig from the glass bottle. This was his second? Third? Atsumu has lost count.

“Miya. Stop that.” Sakusa says, snapping his fingers to get the fake blonde’s attention.

“Stop what?” Atsumu slurs his words _.  _ It is barely even midnight, the night is still young and Atsumu is already feeling the effects of the alcohol. 

“The way you’re looking at him. Just admit it already, you have a thing for Boks, don’t you?”

Atsumu strokes his chin, swaying in his chair as he pretends to put some thought to his response. “I think so. Maybe. Just a tiiiiiny bit. Just this much” He then leans forward on the table, pinching his pointer and thumb together to make a point.

“You’re not sure?” Sakusa replies, his arms folded as he listens to Atsumu’s drunk ramblings.

“I don’t know.” Atsumu sighs, rubbing his face in frustration. ”Omi, I really don’t know. What am I supposed to feel?”

Sakusa scoffs. “How would I know? Those are your feelings, not mine.” 

“Omi, why are you such an asshole? You can answer my question properly, you know. ” 

“Because you already know the answer, you just don’t want to admit it. You like him.”

Atsumu is shocked, his annoyance getting worse by the second. “You think this is easy for me?”

“I never said it was easy. I’m just saying you know what you want. Why don’t you go for it? What do you have to lose?”

“Uhhhhh...Everything?” Atsumu tinkers with the bottle in his hand, refusing to face Sakusa’s judgemental looks. “What if he doesn’t like me? What will I do then?”

“First of all, I doubt that. Hello, your mom already thought you were together. Second, How would you even know if you don’t even try?”

_ Tch. _

If there is one thing you could rely on, it was Sakusa giving you the cold, hard truth. He took no prisoners when you wanted an opinion, his words stinging when you needed to hear it the most. A drunk Atsumu, however, does not appreciate Sakusa’s bluntness. “Can I just..unsubscribe from feelings? I hate it here.”

“Stop being a baby, it’s annoying. You can’t get what you want if you don’t try.”

“I don’t want things to get awkward if it all goes wrong.”

“What if it goes right? What if he likes you back? Don’t you want to know the answer to that?”

Atsumu doesn’t respond. Despite his drunken stupor, he knows Sakusa was asking all the right questions. For a journalist, Atsumu is supposed to be truthful and fair in all his news coverages. So why can’t he do the same with himself? “Why is it even a question in the first place?”

“I don’t know. I’m guessing it’s because he’s your type, but that sounds like a  _ you _ problem, Miya.”

“You’re such a dick, Kiyoomi.”

Kiyoomi continues. “Look, I love you guys, but you’re both complete idiots. Don’t you notice how clingy he is with you? You’re always together, it’s gross.”

“Maybe he’s just that friendly with everyone.” Atsumu insists, taking another sip of his beer. He winces, the bitter taste of lukewarm Red Horse burning down his throat.    


The laugh that escapes Sakusa is dry. “He doesn’t hug everyone like that. He doesn’t even hug  _ me  _ like that.”

“Okay, valid. But nobody hugs you, period. I think you lacked affection as a kid.”

“You know what, fuck you. I’ll leave the bill to you guys.”

“Come on, Omi. I’m just kidding.”

Sakusa shakes his head, smiling at the sheer idiocy of their talk. He raises his glass, which Atsumu responds to by raising his bottle, and they both continue to drink.

The two fall quiet, letting the conversations of the other tables serve as white noise to fill the silence that fell between them.

“So, what do you plan to do with Boks?” Sakusa asks.

Atsumu exhales. He’s slowly sobering up, but his thoughts and feelings remain hazy. “I don’t know Omi, I’m so scared.”

“You know, I thought UP students were supposed to be brave and smart. Why are you a coward and an idiot?”

“You wound me.”

“Shut up. Boks is heading back here.”The two try to do their best to act normally, as if they hadn’t been talking about him for the past half-hour.

Bokuto reclaims his seat beside Atsumu. “Sorry guys, I was gone for a while. That was my friend from High School! Anyway what were you guys talking about?” 

Atsumu’s face is flushed red, taking another sip of his beer as he refuses to look in Bokuto’s direction. He opens his phone, scrolling through his twitter filled with thoughts that were just as messy as his was in the moment. 

Trying to avoid awkwardness brought about by Atsumu’s behavior, Sakusa replies to Bokuto’s question. “You.” 

Bokuto chuckles. “What, you missed me already?”

“In your dreams.”

“Uy, wait before I forget.” Bokuto pulls out something from his wallet. “I have tickets for UP Fair next week. I bought it from my friend!” 

“Nice! What’s the lineup?”

“Ah.” Bokuto inspects the ticket closely. “Moonstar88, Ben&Ben, Silent Sanctuary tapos UDD! Pretty solid, right?”

“That does sound great. For what day?”

“Friday, February 14!”

Atsumu scoffs upon hearing the date. “On Valentine’s day? Seriously?”

“Yes.” Bokuto says with a laugh. “I wanted to ask you guys to join me.”

Sakusa replies. “Ay, I can’t. I have a weekend trip with my family.”

“Out of town? Where? Tagaytay?”

“Ah. We’re going to SG. Mom craved for Hainanese chicken one day, so Dad surprised the fam with a trip this week.”

Atsumu looks up from his phone, flabbergasted by Sakusa’s statement. “The fuck? Wish my parents woud plan a random weekend trip to Singapore.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to bring you guys some Irvin’s. ”

“Yown. Kiyoomi Zobel De Ayala Sakusa is the best!” Bokuto raises his bottle in honor of their friend.

“Fuck off, Boks.” Sakusa retorts, but goes along with Bokuto’s antics. “So, are you guys still going to UP Fair?”

“I’m going.” Bokuto shifts his attention to his seatmate. “How about you, Tsum-Tsum? Are you joining me?” His arm casually rests on the back of Atsumu chair, causing the boy to become acutely aware of its presence. 

Atsumu still refuses to look up, sure that a smirk is playing on Sakusa’s lips.  _ I know. I’m weak, goddammit. _

“Of course.” Atsumu says, his voice coming out in a higher pitch than usual. 

“Yown! Wait, let me just get more ice.” For the second time that night, Bokuto leaves his seat, letting Atsumu breathe again.

Sakusa leans in to whisper. “There you go. Here’s your chance, Miya.”

Atsumu panics slightly, the idea that he and Bokuto made plans for a pseudo-date on Valentine’s day. “Goddammit, Omi. Why’d you leave me?”

“You’re a big boy. You can do it.”

“Omi, I don’t know what to do. There are so many questions I don’t know the answer to.”

Atsumu catches sight of Bokuto waiting at the counter, chatting up the  _ kuya  _ as he prepares the bucket of ice and beer for their table. Atsumu is caught off guard once he sees Bokuto look back to meet his eyes. He gives a wink and a smile that shows off those goddamned dimples, distracting Atsumu from whatever problem he was having earlier. 

He fails to hear Sakusa’s response to him. 

“Then find out the answer yourself.”

* * *

_ Ba't 'di pa sabihin _

_ Ang hindi mo maamin? _

_ Ipauubaya na lang ba 'to sa hangin? _

_ Tadhana - Up Dharma Down _

A UP student’s experience will never be complete without attending the UP Fair. Filled with iconic bands, games and food stalls, it was a week long celebration of fun amidst the stress that academia had to offer.

Atsumu couldn’t fully enjoy the experience however, because of the one thing that nagged him at the back of his mind.

_ Shit. What will I say to Boks? _

Right now he’s standing near the iron fence that covered the fairgrounds, the opening performances and the noise of the crowd serving as a distraction from his troubled thoughts. His shoes graze the brown and green patches of the Sunken Garden, trying his best to keep himself busy. 

“What are you thinking about?” He looks up to see Bokuto standing beside him, holding Snack Shack burgers and Graham Mango shakes to get them through the night. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t notice you.” Atsumu says, lying through his teeth. 

“Maybe you’re just hungry. Let’s eat first before the concert starts.” He hands over the food to Atsumu. 

“Right, I think they’re playing at midnight, I think.”

“Let’s go take a look at the booths?”

“Sure.”

_ This is nice.  _ Atsumu thinks. He’d always been at ease with Bokuto. Although Osamu knew Atsumu longer  — they were twins after all — Bokuto knew Atsumu better. After afternoons spent in the  _ tambayan  _ outside their college and nights spent in TK talking about everything and nothing, it was inevitable that they’d get to understand each other on a different level.

Atsumu is scared to tread the line between comfortable familiarity and something  _ more _ . Why risk the comfortable for something you weren’t sure of?

They groan when they aren’t able to pop the balloons that would have earned them a ceramic plate, scream when they ride the rusty Ferris Wheel of Death, and laugh when they are offered free glow-in-the-dark condoms out of nowhere. Right now,they are having the time of their lives. 

This is when Atsumu fully realized that,  _ Shit, I really am happy when I’m with him. _

He knew this isn’t just because of the magic of the UP Fair, where bright lights and beautiful songs built up the charm of the event. It is Bokuto, plain and simple.

Remove the stage, the music, the people, and he’d be just as happy, all because it was with him.

The emcee starts to speak, catching Bokuto’s attention.“Wait, I think Silent Sanctuary is playing. Let’s get a spot.” Bokuto grabs Atsumu’s hand, dragging him away from the booths. 

They manage to find an isolated patch of grass within the fairgrounds, far from the stage, but it offers them a clear view of the giant screen in front. Once the two get settled, the sounds of the cello start to play through the sound system, quickly followed by shouts of the festival goers near the stage. Atsumu adjusts his seating position, accidentally bumping their shoulders against each other due to the proximity.

  
_ Di ko maintindihan ang nilalaman ang puso.  _ _   
_ _ (I don’t understand what’s in my heart) _

As the words trickle out of the speakers, Bokuto leans his head on Atsumu’s shoulder. For a moment, Atsumu freezes. Bokuto’s hair tickles the side of his neck. He becomes extremely conscious of each breath, each word being hummed by the presence right beside him. 

His heart is beating fast, rivaling the sounds of the drums on stage. He tries his best to calm down, so he sings along. 

_ Sa lahat ng aking ginagawa _

_ Ikaw lamang ang nasa isip ko, sinta _

_ (In everything that I do, _

_ You’re the only thing in my mind.) _

Silent Sanctuary continues to play, a spell somehow cast in the vicinity of the Sunken Garden as the music washes over the crowd.

In the middle of the song, Bokuto voices out an observation.“It’s kinda sad to visit the UP Fair, isn’t it?” 

Atsumu is surprised by the question, but he responds. “It is.”

“Then it’s all couples because it’s Valentine’s day.”

Atsumu swallows hard before replying, unsure with what Bokuto is trying to say. “Sorry I’m your date this Valentine’s, Boks. I hope you’re not feeling lonely.”

Bokuto looks up to Atsumu, a frown on his face. “What are you talking about? I’m not lonely. You’re here.”

“Yeah, but that’s different. I’m always here.” Atsumu reasons.

“Exactly.”

The two continue to sit in comfortable silence, sitting side-by-side as the emcees try to engage the crowd before they introduce the next act. 

_ Maybe this is the time to do it.  _ Atsumu thinks.

He mustered enough courage to speak his next sentence. “Boks, I need to tell you-”

Before he could finish the sentence, the crowd goes wild as the emcees shout into their microphones. “Give it up for Up Dharma Down!”

_ Talk about bad timing.  _

“Hey! UDD’s about to play!” Bokuto shouts and stands up immediately. “Let’s go, Tsumu? You want to come closer?” 

The two squeeze through the crowd, trying to find a good spot until they settle somewhere that was good enough to see the performers. They are surrounded by couples in various states of embraces and handholding, and Atsumu can feel his cheeks warming up at the sight.

It is a good thing that Bokuto does not notice, his attention still glued to the stage. His eyes are twinkling with delight as soon as the lead singer takes the mic to test it. 

Bokuto looks over to Atsumu. “Sorry. You were about to say something earlier?”

“Oh it’s nothing. I’m just excited.”

Before Bokuto can follow up his train of thought, the familiar notes of the band’s song start playing. 

_ Tatakbo. _

_ Gagalaw. _

_ Nag-iisip ba kung dapat bang bumitaw. _

_ (About to run. _

_ About to move. _

_ Thinking if it’s time to let go. _

“Why are you so far from me, Tsum-Tsum? Come closer.” He offers his hand, which Atsumu takes wordlessly. Once Atsumu takes his place beside him, Bokuto places his hand on the small of Atsumu’s back.

Atsumu gulps, his mouth running dry. They’re close — too close — and Atsumu’s trying his best not to let his nerves get the best of him. Eventually, Bokuto’s hand lifts from his back, an exhale of relief slipping through his lips. They mouth the words to the song until the end, joining hundreds of others who have been anticipating this act all night. 

“Are you guys still okay?” The lead singer asks, earning another roar from the crowd. “Thank you for celebrating Valentine’s with us. Our next song is dedicated to those who have loved, are still in love, or hoping to fall in love again. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

The tunes of the synth and keyboard start to echo throughout the fairgrounds. For the first time that night, the crowd falls into a hushed silence, letting only the music and the sounds of the night fill the air.

_ Sa hindi inaasahang _

_ Pagtatagpo ng mga mundo _

_ (In an unexpected _

_ meeting of two different worlds) _

At this moment, Atsumu is completely aware of Bokuto’s presence. The knuckles of their hands brush against each other. It’s indiscernible, a light touch that is unavoidable given the little distance in between them. 

But it happens again. 

Atsumu tilts his head, only to see Bokuto already looking at him. 

_ Ibinubunyag ka ng iyong mata _

_ Sumisigaw ng pagsinta _

_ (Your eyes reveal _

_ the shout of your longing) _

The tips of their fingers touch. Then their palms. 

Atsumu makes a move, his fingers sliding through the spaces between Bokuto’s. Once their fingers are intertwined, Bokuto gives the hand he’s holding a gentle squeeze.

Atsumu is relieved that Bokuto doesn’t pull away. 

The song continues to play in the background, a soundtrack of a moment that’s been playing over and over in Atsumu’s head the entire night. 

He inhales deeply. “Boks, I need to tell you something.”

“What’s that?”

_ Ba't 'di pa sabihin _

_ Ang hindi mo maamin? _

_ Ipauubaya na lang ba 'to sa hangin? _

_ (Why won’t you say _

_ what you can’t admit? _

_ Will you let the wind take over instead?) _

As if destiny, fate or whatever force of nature conspires with what Atsumu is planning to do, fireworks light up the night sky. The crackling sounds obscure Atsumu’s words.

“Boks, I like you.”

Bokuto turns his head in surprise. “Huh?”

Atsumu repeats his words carefully, his voice more determined than ever. “I said I like you.”

He remembers the journey that he went through, the nights of overthinking, confusion and sheer stupidity that led to this moment. 

Atsumu doesn’t regret a single second of it.

The boy beside him laughs softly, leaning in towards Atsumu. 

Their position, side-by-side in the middle of a sea of lovers old and new.

The timing, with the music and fireworks still in the background of this moment. 

Their angle, with Bokuto’s lips near his ear, prepared to whisper his response. He speaks quietly, but his words are loud enough to drown out the noise of their surroundings. 

Atsumu’s lips curl up as he asks Bokuto to repeat what he said, wanting to hear the words over and over again. 

Atsumu doesn’t want to change a thing. 

To him, this is perfect.

_ Huwag mong ikatakot _

_ Ang bulong ng damdamin mo _

_ Naririto ako't nakikinig sa'yo _

_ (Don’t be afraid _

_ of the whispers of your heart. _

_ I’m here listening to you.) _

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Please do not perceive me. Ayoko sabihin kung alin diyan ang totoo at hindi HAHAHAH MASYADONG MARAMING PINAGHUGUTAN KAYA ANG DALDAL KO TULOY
> 
> anyway yun lang TY for reading pls do not judge HAHAHAHA
> 
> kwento ko na lang sa inyo via Twitter DMs @Bokkuatsu (CHAROT DON'T ASK ME PLS WAHAHAHHA)


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